


Smoke and Mirrors

by etherealmindss



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: College AU, F/M, Good guy Theo, Lesbian Kira, Liam is the same age as the pack, Maleo brotp, OOC, Past-Scott McCall/Allison Argent - Freeform, Scalia, Scolia - Freeform, Scott McCall & Malia Tate - Freeform, Scott and Malia, Scott and Malia are roommates, Scott x Malia - Freeform, Supernatural - Freeform, Thiam, bi-sexual Theo, bi-sexual lydia, deviations from canon, gritty scott, scott is edgier and a little more dominant
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-16
Updated: 2017-11-30
Packaged: 2018-11-01 15:04:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 101,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10924311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/etherealmindss/pseuds/etherealmindss
Summary: AU college scalia/scolia story. Some ooc and deviations from canon. Scott and Malia are accidentally paired as roommates.





	1. Collision Course

**Author's Note:**

> Song Inspiration: "Where is my Mind" Pixies & "Catch the Wind" The High Highs

SCOTT POV:

Stiles and I step through the court yard of what is going to be the next four years of our lives. Baggy and decked out in plaid as usual, he flails his arms around while rambling on about how Lydia still won't give him the time of day. The arm in question almost hit me in the face if it weren't for my werewolf reflexes.

I dodge him effortlessly. "Easy man, knowing your track record you'll accidentally knock out a senior or something and then not only will I have to keep the peace, but I'll also gain an enemy by association." I chuckle, watching as Stiles' eyes widen, his ID falling from his mouth. He merely shrugs his shoulders and continues walking.

He rolls his eyes and scoffs, "Please Scott, I could kick your little werewolf ass any day of the week, I wouldn't need the backup in a fight." He teases with a wink, bringing his attention back to the conversation at hand.

Choosing to ignore his comment, I remind him, "You know dude if you weren't so hung up on Lydia, you might notice that Erica has had a crush on you since.. well, forever. She's cute. Who knows, Lydia might even realize that she's into you." I suggest before backtracking, "Not that I'm saying you should use Erica to make Lydia jealous, because that's wrong and all…"

Stiles interrupts, "Scott, you're a genius-"

"Stiles" I sigh, rubbing my hand over the back of my neck. He can't actually think that this is a good idea. "We're starting over. There's plenty of new girls here that I'm sure will be totally into you. Maybe it's time to give up on the ten year plan?"

He explains, "Look all I'm saying is that it could work."

We walk in silence until we're standing in front of the dormitories. With one last glance at each other and a subtle fist bump, we open the doors and step into our new living quarters. We pass a string of freshman who look just as nervous yet excited as us with bins, suitcases, and duffle bags wrapped around their bodies.

Stiles and I had decided to go our separate ways for our freshman year by opting to not be roommates. We thought it would be a good way to expand our friend groups, knowing that if we stuck by eachother's sides the whole time we would never venture out and meet new people. It would be weird not being together all the time since we were always crashing at eachother's houses during high school, but we'd still see one another and the pack all the time. Besides we wouldn't be far, he will only be across the hall.

Stiles wipes a fake tear from falling, "I'm gonna miss you, brotha." He says, clapping a hand on my shoulder and pulls me into a side hug.

I chuckle at the gesture and hug him back. "Still got that walkie-talkie from sophomore year?"

He snorts, pulling at the zipper of his duffle bag and producing the black and yellow walkie-talkie to match mine that we'd jokingly bought at the dollar store one day.

He starts, "So are you Batman and I'm Robin? Because I don't want to be Robin all the time."

I sigh, knowing how insecure he gets sometimes about being the only human in the pack, "Neither of us are Batman or Robin."

Stiles pouts, "Not even some of the time?"

We're interrupted by a leggy blonde who makes her way in our direction and splits between the two of us. I guess I forgot to mention that we're staying in a co-ed dorm.

She peers at Stiles before her blue eyes drift over to me. Suddenly I'm hit with a wave of lust, not of my own doing, but hers. Her lips are painted a deep red and her too perfect teeth gleam in the bright lights of the corridor. With a flip of her golden hair she purrs, "Hi my name is Fiona, and you are-" She cuts off, looking up at me with expectant eyes.

I cough awkwardly with a polite, albeit uncomfortable smile, "I'm Scott and this is my friend Stiles." I say, gesturing to my plaid-covered friend, "We're new here."

Fiona flashes a grin, "I assumed as much, I never forget a face. And I definitely would remember yours. You leave quite the impression." She flirts shamelessly, running her manicured hand down my bicep. "There's a party tonight at the Zeta house. All the sororities are coming together and a few of the fraternities are coming out. My house is hosting. It's kind of like a welcome back to school thing, or in your case, more of a welcome home since this will be your new living space and all. You should come."

I clear my throat, "I'm not sure, I have a lot of unpacking to do…"

Stiles decides to pop in at that moment, "We'll be there!"

Fiona giggles, "Great, bring anyone you want." She says, extending the invitation before walking off. She stops and turns around when she's almost at the end of the hall, "Oh and Scott, save me a dance." She smirks, turning on her heel and rounding the corner.

Stiles' wears a goofy grin on his face, "She's so into you Scott, I mean did you see the way she was eyeing you? My boy's about to get some tonight." He taunts with a satisfied twitch of his lips.

I roll my eyes at his childishness, "You're a little shit, you know that, right?" I mumble through a tight-lipped smile, my dimples peeking out at the corners.

Stiles grabs me by the back of the neck, giving me a brotherly shake, "I just want you to be happy, man. After everything between Allison and you with the weird tension and walking circles around each other, I figured you need something to cheer you up. You won't be sad forever, Scotty."

I scratch the stubble of my jaw, already feeling my mood dampen at where this conversation is going. Allison and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember, even longer than Stiles and I. We went through the lover's quarrels, the star-crossed romance, forbidden love, and all that fairy tale bullshit. But in the end, the obstacles became too much for us. We began growing apart, breaking up on and off through out high school. I tried to make it work but it seemed that all she wanted to do was leave us in the past. Leave me in the past. What I've come to learn is that loving someone isn't always enough. Regardless, she's still my best friend.

I eye my key card and the number plates that line the row of doors down the halls. I walk a few paces to the left until I come across 120B.

I bump shoulders with Stiles and throw in a crooked smile, "This is my stop. I'll get a hold of Allison, Isaac, and Liam later and see if they want to go out. I figured you'd want to ask Lydia yourself, unless your hellbent on this Erica plan of yours." I chuckle, putting the key in the lock. "Either way, be careful dude, girls can get hostile."

He smirks and starts walking backwards to his room, "May the force be with you, buddy."

My eyes roll, "And may the odds be ever in your favor."

"Dude that's not Star Wars! Come on, that's The Hunger Games. I need to expand your cinematic experience because that is just pitiful. I'm insulted, you uncultured swine." Stiles bellows with a look of disgust before he erupts in laughter, placing his hand over his heart.

I let out a deep laugh, "Fine, how about once were all settled in we have a Star Wars marathon, my treat. I can order pizza and maybe I can even convince a junior or something to smuggle us a couple of beers. How does that sound?"

Stiles gasps, "Scott McCall, breaking the rules? I like it. I don't know what's gotten into you but I'm all here for it. Isaac was right, you are the hot girl."

I beam proudly, "I'm the hot girl?"

Stiles raises two thumbs up, "You are the hottest girl." He winks, finding his room and walking inside with one final wave.

MALIA POV:

I growl through the receiver of my phone that lays nestled between my ear and shoulder. Theo rattles away on the other line, harping on how I've become an introverted loner who needs to socialize.

I huff, "The kind of party that's going on tonight really just isn't my scene, Theo."

I can almost hear his eye roll through the phone. "Malia… at the risk of sounding like an asshole, I'm going to warn you now… I'm about to be an asshole. You're hot and fun and lets be honest, if you weren't my best friend I'd wrap those gorgeous legs around my waist and have my way with you. But since my taste for men has increased lately and you have tragic taste in that department, I'm here to help you get laid and Kira agrees with me.

I grumble out a response, "I'm so happy that my two best friends just sit around and discuss my nonexistent love life."

Kira's airy voice flits through the receiver, "Malia you know I love you and all, but you've been a moody bitch lately. Either your period is coming or you need some dick. Whichever comes first."

I slap my forehead in embarrassment, "Well damn guys, tell me how you really feel. It's not like I can just wander the halls and go up to some random guy and ask him where I can schedule the fastest dick appointment."

Their chuckles die down until Theo chimes in, "We're just looking out for you."

I smirk, "Are you just looking out for me or my pussy?"

Kira and Theo's laughter intermingle through the phone, causing me to crack a grin of my own. These two idiots are the best things that have ever happened to me. They're the type of friends that I can be serious with and talk about things that matter but also joke about having a threesome with. I know Theo would be down, but sometimes I think Kira could hang, too. She is a fox after all, and you know what else they call a female fox?

A vixen.

I catch a piece of my tawny, copper-gold hair and curl it around my ear while still balancing the phone between my shoulder. "Okay look guys, I have to finish unpacking. My roommate hasn't shown up yet but I'm trying to snag the bigger closet in the room with the bay window and claim the best bathroom. So in order to do that I need to put all my shit into place so that they know that it's mine. I have a few more boxes to unload and then we can all meet up. Can we catch up at your apartment, Theo?"

The perks of being a year older is that Theo doesn't have to live on campus anymore. Can't say I blame him, who wants to deal with the additional fees for food and a dorm where the walls are so paper thin that the sounds of porn from the room over are like a blaring and obnoxious two-for-one deal.

Since Peter is drowning in more money than he knows what to do with, I was able to splurge on this private college where the dorm rooms are basically mini apartments. They even have a kitchen. The good thing about this school is that any student who has a single parent or no parents, plays a sport, or is in the honors program manages to be able to afford the this place with the generous scholarships available from financial aid.

Peter is still grovelling to get on my good side. Psychopaths tend to have their occasional break throughs.

I hear keys jiggle in the door and heavy footfalls cross the threshold.

I whisper into the phone, "Crap, my roommate just showed up. I swear if I get an early-riser or one who loves to sing Katy Perry in the shower, I'll sink my claws into the closest piece of flesh I can find."

Theo chuckles, "Ohhhh… kinky."

I snort unladylike, "Dumb ass."

I unceremoniously hang up the phone, deciding to be polite and go greet my new roommate. This could go one of two ways: I could either love them or I could kill them on sight.

I turn the corner and my mouth runs dry.

Standing before me is a broad shouldered guy with skin the color of toffee, his back muscles flexing deliciously in the deep gray crew neck he's wearing. He hasn't turned around yet, so I get the moment to survey him after I get over my initial shock of some random guy being in my room. With a head of tamed chocolate curls with slightly shaven sides, toned thighs visible through the style of his jeans, and a tribal arm tattoo of two blackened bands, I can feel the room get hotter and the air growing thinner. I pick up the unfamiliar scent and my eyes flare a crystalline blue.

I decide to skip over the pleasantries and get straight to the point, "So you're an Alpha."

He turns in a nanosecond, sharp penetrating eyes scorching my skin underneath his red gaze. Those eyes threaten me to submit, to fall, to please. He rushes me up against the nearest wall and wraps a rough, calloused hand around my throat. Applying a little pressure, he makes his point. Even with my life in imminent danger, my body betrays me when I feel a familiar gush between my legs. Blame it on my choking kink.

I know he can smell me, his nostrils flaring and a look of apprehensiveness coupled with barely concealed lust overtaking his features. He looks at me hard and then relaxes his grip on my throat, but his hand still stays in place, "What are you and what are you doing here?"

I meet him head on, slightly anxious and slightly turned on, but there was no way in hell I will let him know that. Beneath the scrutiny of his red eyes, he is in a state of fire and rapture, a careful dance of the two, but with a weariness not to touch. Something about the flame growing in my belly made me want to burn underneath his gaze.

I drawl out a reply, "Werecoyote. I'm also a certified smart ass, but that's not important right now. As for what I'm doing here, I'm simply cashing in on the exclusive wonders of a quality education and now I'm enjoying the lovely company of my not-so-trusting roommate. You don't make friends very easily, do you?"

He lets me go with a huff, taking a step away until his back hits the island in the kitchen.

He looks down at his hands and then back up at my neck, a simmering regret circling his eyes when he sees a faint bruise starting to form. "Sorry, I'm not usually one to jump to conclusions. You just caught me by surprise is all, and I was also expecting a guy. I thought maybe you were some random supernatural creature here to come after me and my pack."

I rub the kink out of my neck, "None taken. I'm usually told that I look like I'm up to no good." I say, pushing my wild hair back behind my ears. "I probably could have found a better way to call you out. I'm known for being a bit abrasive, you'll have to get used to that.

He chuckles at that. "At least let me get some ice for your throat." He offers.

I trip on my words, caught off guard by his sudden kindness, "No-no- really it's not necessary. It will go away within thirty minutes." I try to explain but he's too fast and determined, already having a bag of ice between his hands as he presses it against my sensitive flesh.

"My mom would kill me if she knew I attacked a girl, possible enemy or not." He supplies, the pad of his thumb grazing my neck that leaves me with more chills than the ice itself.

He looks up again; his eyes are two pools of brown, warm and inviting, a hint of a smile and a peace offering in them as they crinkle in the corners. He scratches his head and looks confused, staring at me blankly for a moment.

"I'm assuming you aren't Caleb Johnson," He grins, giving me a once over. "There must have been a mix up with one of our schedules, I didn't think boys we're allowed to room with girls.

I clear my throat and muster up a reply, "My name is Malia… Tate. I was expecting a girl named Christy to walk through that door, and you- you definitely don't look like a Christy, or an overzealous morning person." I pause, a wild and spontaneous idea coming to mind. "Maybe this could work out after all."

His eyes widen in amusement, flitting back and forth across my face, "Are you suggesting that we not say anything to the RA about the mix up?"

"I'm not suggesting anything… but I should let you know that I have an exceptional supply of horror movies, I pride myself in being an organized person, and I always keep the freezer stocked with Haagen Daz icecream." I present with a smirk, finding my eyes drawn to his tongue that peeks out to wet his lips.

He contemplates it for a moment and then replies, "Well I'm Scott McCall. I'm not a messy person either, I'm pretty handy in the kitchen, and I'm not a big Katy Perry fan. If you're going to catch me singing in the shower to anything, it will definitely be either Frank Sinatra or Ella Fitzgerald." He supplies with a cheeky grin, having must of heard the tail end of my conversation on the phone.

I giggle under my breath and a dimpled grin slips past my lips. So he's cute and funny, noted. Then the realization hits me.

When the fuck have I ever giggled?

He flashes a pair of disarming dimples that compliment his crooked jaw that's shadowed in stubble. His appearance falls together like it's dripping in sex, his dark hair and even darker eyes giving him a rugged, older vibe. It's all topped off with an appropriate amount of cologne that just the scent alone causes me to bit my lip to suppress a moan. With all these dirty thoughts running through my head, I can still see a gentleness in his eyes, the kind that brings me back to reality. I'm going to be stuck with this guy for at least a semester. No matter how devastatingly handsome he is, I have rules set in place and that includes no fucking my roommates.

It's as if Scott can see the cogs and wheels spinning around in my head. I wonder if he was thinking the same thing that I was. Because while he may seem innocent in an "I'm hot but I don't know it" kind of way, I can already tell that his smile has dropped more panties than I'm willing to think about. Except now, ironically, all I can think about is his mouth in the same vicinity as my panties.

I shake myself from my thoughts and hope I didn't take too long to answer. I've barely met the guy and he probably already thinks I'm slow, if you know what I mean.

"I actually love Ella Fitzgerald. My mom used to play Summertime every morning when she'd make my little sister Kylie and I breakfast. It was her favorite song." I muse, remembering better days when my mom and sister were alive and I didn't bear the guilt of their deaths.

His eyes seem to sadden at that, as if he knew there is more.

Scott stands a little straighter, looking to me for clarification, "Was?"

I swallowed the lump in my throat, "Yeah, was."

Sensing that I wasn't going to say anything else about it, he gave me a small smile and shuffled around me with a duffle bag and a suit case in hand.

He shot me a look over his shoulder, "So we're really going to do this, huh?"

Those damn dimples.

I stand my ground with my arms crossed over my chest, sizing him up to see if he was really down with this idea. It may not be the best idea in the world to live with someone who can possibly overpower me in a fight, especially an Alpha no less. But something tickles the back of my brain, a feeling of the calm before a storm, telling me that I can trust him.

I plop on the couch and grab the remote, popping in a piece of the white cheddar popcorn I'd cracked open earlier. My brown eyes turn to look at him, "I won't tell if you won't." Grinning, I watch him have an internal battle with himself before the cloudiness in his eyes subsides and he drops his luggage before settling down in the spot next to me.

Scott steals my bag of popcorn, throwing some back into his mouth as I glare at him, reaching for the bag as he holds it out of my reach.

"Hey!" I whine, grasping for the bad of cheesy goodness. He chuckles, continuing to evade my hands. He laughs at my efforts, but I am determined. My daisy dukes ride up a little higher as I stretch my body across his to retrieve my popcorn. I look up at him grinning down at me, "You're loving this, aren't you?" I accuse, a small pout resting on my face.

Scott snatches one more piece of popcorn before having mercy on me and returning my snack. I swipe it back fast, a residual glare ever-present, before I go at the bag again. He looks amused and I wonder what he's looking at.

I arch a brow at him, "Why are you looking at me like that, McCall?" I tease, seeing him fall out of his trance before reaching over towards me. I was slightly on the defense until his thumb swipes across the corner of my mouth just as he then sticks it in his mouth, licking it clean.

My cheeks instantly go red.

He looks at me innocently, "You had cheese on your face."

He moves off the couch and goes for his luggage, moving towards the empty room that would now belong to him.

Scott stops and turns back to face me. "I'm going to go unpack, but there's this party tonight that I was invited to and it'd be cool if you came… you know, if you want." He says nervously, his eyes going from the floor and then back up to meet mine.

It must be the same party Theo and Kira were trying to bully me into going to. I planned on watching Netflix all night. I'm on season 5 of Shameless and the show just keeps getting better and better. But maybe with Scott there it could be fun.

I pretend to think about it, "So I've heard. I don't know, those kind of parties aren't really my thing."

I can see the sarcastic comment on the tip of his tongue.

He looks at me disbelievingly, "You're not one of those hipsters, are you? Because you don't peg me as one." He says, that stupid grin back in place.

I shoot out of my seat, "What, no way! Those pretentious fucks are the bane of my existence, always talking about how Woodstock was the real Coachella and how the world we live in is a oblivious shoe box of mainstream media and politics." I grumble, "As if they were even alive when Woodstock happened, how would they know?" I whisper under my breath.

Scott looks at me like I've grown a second head, "Prove it, then."

I look at him confused, "What?"

His eyes call me out in challenge, "Come to the party tonight. It will probably be lame… but it will probably be a lot more fun if you are there." He says sheepishly.

I sigh, deciding what could it really hurt just by making an appearance. I narrow my eyes at him, "Fine, I'll go… but on one condition." I move over to the kitchen and grab a bottle of my favorite whiskey, "You're getting drunk with me."

He snags the bottle from my hands and takes a swig without grimacing, color me impressed.

He peers at me over the rim of the bottle and the flirtation that sits there makes my limbs feel like jelly. My cheeks ache from excitement. It's already hard not to smile around him.

He passes the bottle over to me and leans against the counter, his breath a mix of whiskey and peppermint, "I'm kind of a boring drunk." He warns, eyes twinkling in mirth when I take a long swig as well.

I place the bottle down on the island and lean into him, "Well unfortunately for you, I'm a friendly drunk."


	2. Drunken Words On My Lips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Berlin" Ry X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I love TVD and I used a quote from one of my favorite villians Klaus Mikaelson in this chapter, "It's not a crime to love what you cannot explain."

SCOTT POV:

Okay, so if it isn't obvious, Malia is beautiful.

But not even the conventional beautiful that I'm used to. It's the way her hair falls: a golden-brown hurricane that frames her heart-shaped face, a cute button nose, dewy brown eyes that shine honey in just the right lighting, and long impossible legs that fall underneath cut-off daisy dukes as she struts around the dorm barefoot.

The urge to have my face between her legs and for her to choke me with those thighs is tempting and palpable. I felt it the moment I smelled her when I had her up against the wall by her throat. Knowing how much she liked it only spurred me on and made it harder to keep my composure.

Her voice is the perfect combination of sleep-deprived and etched in sex, a raspy trill that drifts on like morning mist.

However, my mother didn't raise a neanderthal. She taught me to be a gentleman and that's exactly what I am going to be.

I squeeze my eyes shut to calm the red that threatens to spill over remembering the fearlessness in her eyes and stance when every atom in her body should have told her to run.

I like my women the way I like my liquor: Strong and spicy. A spitfire whose words burn hot and unforgiving down my throat. I love women who are unapologetic in the way they carry themselves.

I shut the door behind me to start unpacking.

I go through the first box of miscellaneous items retrieving my lacrosse stick, my old jersey, my walkie-talkie, laptop, and a few other relics that I begin scattering around the room. At the bottom of the box, a single frame catches dust. I lift the picture and come face to face with Allison. This one is from freshman year of high school.

She looks gorgeous; wide cocoa eyes falling beneath long lashes, her smile contagious, her laugh infectious, my lacrosse jersey that's two sizes too big falling off one of her pale shoulders. I remember this moment underneath the high lights of the lacrosse field, it was the first game she had ever attended. She always used to have archery lessons the same days as the games and her dad would never let her miss them. Lydia had been beside her cheering on Jackson from the sidelines. Allison would talk to me from the stands, even with all the distance I could still hear her as if she were whispering in my ear. I remember focusing on her heartbeat through the masses of people. In a way it grounded me, anchored me down when my control was at it's weakest. Knowing she was there, I shot the ball as it went flying past the goalie and into the net. That was the day we had won state.

That was the day that I realized I loved her.

A dark shadow crosses my face. Sometimes I think that I still love Allison, that I'll always love her. When I see her, something inside me breaks, but it's a good kind of broken.

I can hear Malia humming from the couch, Ella Fitzgerald slipping seamlessly from her lips. I smile at that, knowing that not many girls were familiar with the tune.

My phone beeps and I get a text from Stiles.

My roommate is weird, I'm coming 2 c u. - Stiles

I have to laugh. Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?

I resume my unpacking, throwing shirts and pants on hangers, putting up posters and pictures, begin setting up my tv on the stand, and move my toiletries into the adjacent bathroom.

"McCall!" Malia yells from the other room.

I sprint out to see if she's okay, only to catch her grumbling on the futon.

She stands up before me; a form-fitting black choker dress hugging every inch of her curves. Her hair is mussed and slightly curled in effortless beachy waves, her ears are decorated in sapphire studs, and her lips painted fuchsia.

She snickers, "Eyes up here, Scott, I'm having a female crisis."

I snort, "You didn't start your period, did you?"

She chokes on her saliva, spluttering out until she can breathe. I pat her on the back to help her out, I didn't mean to embarrass her. She's kind of cute all flustered though.

She glares at me, "TMI, Scott." She laughs, rubbing her chin, "But no, I didn't. My friend Theo is bound and determined to get me laid tonight." She groans, crossing her arms over her chest which only serve to prop her tits up, not that I'm looking or anything. "What about you, are you trying to get laid?" She asks bluntly, looking at me with a easy, cool demeanor.

Now it's my turn to choke.

She snickers knowingly at my expression, "So you're more of a commitment guy, hey, no shame in that. I like you 'suffer in silence' types. Don't worry Scott, you can beat your dick off whenever you feel like it, just pretend that I'm not even here." She goads, "Or do, it would be hot either way." She teases, poking me in the chest playfully.

I don't think I could be an redder than I am in this moment. Mortified doesn't even begin to cover it.

Malia grins, "Well if you change your mind, I have an idea. Every time one of us wants to hook up with someone here, we can just shoot the other a quick text and we can find somewhere to hang for an hour or so." She says, rubbing her chin, "Oh and if it's last minute, just leave a sock on the front door." She explains with nonchalance, as if we're not talking about fucking, the same way most people talk about doing their laundry.

It's then that I really get a look at her and my palms start to sweat. I've never been a shy guy when it comes to girls. I liked confident women and Allison had always been proud of her sexuality. I was always sure in my movements, my words, and my ability to please her. I never got nervous.

So why does Malia have me pitching a tent like a thirteen year old boy who just witnessed his first set of tits?

Her outfit is seductive but her goofy smile says otherwise. I would probably still look at her the same way in a big tshirt and shorts. Malia was a rarity, she made sexy and cute look easy and synchronous.

I shake myself out of the stupor I'm in as I feel my cheeks flush when she smirks in my direction, having caught me staring.

My eyes lingers for a second longer, "I'm not going to apologize for staring," I tease, giving her a soft smile, "You look really pretty, Malia."

At the compliment she folds into herself like origami, rolling her eyes playfully and ushering me over. "You don't look too bad yourself. You clean up pretty nice, actually." She says, running her fingers through my hair to fluff up my curls and fixing one of my buttons that's out of place.

I fake offense, "Are you saying I looked bad before?" Holding back my smile, I place my hand over my chest as if she'd wounded me.

She giggles at my antics, "What can I say, you make homeless look hot." She jokes and I tease her back. I mean, what's the shame in some harmless flirting?

I begin, "So is there a reason you called me in here or did you just miss me already?"

She huffs out a reply, blowing a piece of hair out of her face as she squats down on the couch, "Whoever invented heels clearly didn't include a warning label. These things are like a freaking death trap. I am a werecoyote and a woman of many talents, but balancing on these monstrosities is not one of them." She complains, rubbing at her sore ankles.

I take over for her, bringing her feet into my lap and working my way up and down the soft skin. I rub at her ankles, working my thumbs over the heel and sole of her foot and then repeating it over again.

She mewls from her spot, a look of pure euphoria on her face with her lips parted and her eyes closed.

"Wow." She drawls out through strangled breaths. "You're really good at that."

I keep rubbing her feet, "I used to do it for Allison sometimes."

Oh shit, I really just let that slip, didn't I?

Malia looks at me curiously, "By the way your voice went soft, I'm going to assume that Allison is someone who loves you," She smiles easily, watching my face until it falls slightly. She continues when she notices, "Or someone that you love."

I'm quiet for a moment and she doesn't rush me. She just sits back and watches me, a tinge of sympathy clear as day on her face.

I cough to clear my nerves, "Allison is my best friend." I say simply, keeping her foot in my grasp so I have something to distract me from looking her in the eye just to see the same pity that everyone looks at me with when Allison is mentioned.

She soldiers on by placing a hand over my mine, willing me to stop my movements, "And you love her." She says, more as a statement than anything, direct with naked curiosity. "It's not a crime to love what you can't explain." She adds with genuine reassurance. Any uncertainty she would of expressed died on her lips as the door bursts open and Stiles pops his head in.

He hasn't noticed Malia yet and bounds in, "Scott, my dude, where you at!"

Stiles shuffles through the kitchen and into the sitting room, a goofy smile in full effect. "Hey man, introduce me to your roomma-" He stops suddenly when he sees Malia, jumping back slightly in true Stiles Stilinski fashion. "Dude, what the hell."

I sigh, moving away from Malia and away from the conversation we almost had, "Stiles, this is Malia…. my roommate."

His eyes widen but he keeps a straight face. He looks from me to Malia back and forth a few times before he sets down on the arm of the futon with narrowed eyes, "Hey I'm Stiles." He introduces himself, "Scott, can I talk to you for a minute?"

I nod, "Sure," gesturing him over to my room even though I know Malia can hear us anywhere in the dorm. We get into my room and just as I'm about to warn him he starts, "Dude she's hot. I mean, I know I called you the hot girl and all but she's way out of your league, buddy." Stiles chuckles good-naturally, patting me on the shoulder, "How did you even manage to get her as a roommate and where do I sign up to get one, too? I'm stuck with a guy named Charles who has five different pictures of his pet lizard and has a creepy obsession for Bates Motel." He confesses, cringing at the memory of the awkward introduction.

I hear Malia chuckle from outside the room, knowing she was listening in, willingly or not I'm unsure, to our conversation. I'm not sure how Stiles is going to react when I tell him the truth. With everything that's happened during high school, he hasn't been the most trusting of newcomers. He likes to keep his circle close, and if you're not in that circle, sometimes he can see you as disposable. I grab Stiles by the shoulders so that he'll look at me, "Malia isn't like you, she's like me." I begin to say and Stiles' eyes narrow, "I know you think that I trust everybody but I don't know how to explain it… she's different."

He looks at me with suspicion, "Oh, fuck me." He groans and slaps his forehead in frustration, "Scott, we've been through this before. New supernaturals popping up randomly is never a good sign. You remember Peter, Jennifer, and how the Beast ended up being Mason? Once is a chance, twice is a coincidence, the third time is a pattern." He says, a hard look on his face.

I listen in for any sound from Malia, but all I hear is the thudding of her heart.

"Just give her a chance, Stiles." I negotiate, trying to get him to listen to me.

Stiles starts for the door, "Scott, I've given a lot of chances to a lot people. I want to get to the bottom of this now."

Stiles rounds the corner, peering over at Malia. "So Malia, where did you say you were from?"

Catching onto the interrogation, Malia answers wittily, "I didn't."

Stiles looks taken aback by her quick answer, not used to someone having the same outspoken exterior as himself, "Lets cut to the chase, it can't be a coincidence that you and Scott we're 'accidentally' roomed together and both happen to be supernatural." He turns his attention to Scott, "Come on Scott, you're the True Alpha, doesn't this hit a little too close to home?"

I shrug my shoulders, "I guess so, but-" I pause, looking for the words to say, "Her heart didn't miss a beat when she heard us talking." I say, looking over at Malia, "So that's got to count for something."

Stiles still looks unconvinced but he settles down on the questions for now.

"You could have told me before I got here that there is another supernatural creature to add to this ever-growing cluster, Scott. It's getting a little too Sense8 up in here." He grumbles, jutting his lip out stubbornly, "I want to be in the know about the sensates, too."

Malia quirks a brow, "Hey, I love Sense8, those are my children. They don't deserve this kind of unfair slander." She defends, crossing her arms over her chest.

Stiles quips, "Yeah okay fine, the show is pretty bad ass. I might have watched it one… two… four times or so, but who's counting?" He exaggerates, continuing to ramble.

Malia smirks at that, "You know the second season has been up on Netflix for a few weeks now, right? Maybe the three of us could watch it together sometime."

"No way, really?" Stiles balks, plopping down on the futon next to her, "Scott and I have a Star Wars marathon to get through first." His eyes scan the room until he sees something that sparks his interest.

He gulps audibly, "Is-is that- is that the deluxe, special edition, double feature of Return of the Jedi?!" He all but squeals like a little girl before racing over to grab it. He fans himself off when he has it in his hands to cool himself down. I swear he actually starts to sweat a little.

Malia chimes in, "Oh yeah, I have the whole collection. My dad was a huge Sci-Fi nerd. He used to take my little sister and I to Star Wars conventions when we were younger. I can basically quote every movie from beginning to end." She beams proudly, "You can borrow it if you want, young Padawan." She humors him, grinning from ear to ear when Stiles looks at her like she's an angel sent down from Heaven.

He points at her, "I guess you're alright for now." He snarks with a ghost of a smile, moving over to me like a kid on Christmas morning while almost tripping over his own feet on the way over, "I suppose I can lay off a little bit, but you have to tell the rest of the pack tonight, we don't need any more surprises."

"Did you text Lydia and Erica about the party tonight?" I ask.

Stiles rolls his eyes, "Yeah, Erica said she had something to do and Lydia said she was going to catch a ride with Allison. I guess I wasn't forward enough about it being a date." He explains, fixing the collar of his flannel.

Malia jumps into the conversation, "Allison's going to be there?"

Before I can say anything Stiles replies, "Yeah, her and Lydia were going to meet us there around 10:30. How do you know Allison?" The suspicion back.

She smiles, "I don't, but I want to meet the girl who captured the heart of McCall over here." She says, gabbing her thumb in my direction, "She seems like my kind of girl." She elaborates, looking between the both of them when they look at her strangely, "No funny business, I promise. I'm not going to hit on her or anything… well actually no promises on that." She says bluntly with a sly look and a wiggle of her eyebrows, getting up off the couch while deciding to forgo the heels.

I latch onto her wrist before she makes it out the door, "Where you going Malia, I thought you were coming with us to the party."

She smiles, gorgeous dimples on full display. "I'll catch you later, Scott. I'm going to meet up with my friends, but I'll see you at the party. Don't have any fun without me and don't forget that you promised to get drunk with me." She says in reminder, removing her hand from my grasp and turning the door knob.

"Do you want me to walk you there?" I ask, concerned. I know she's probably taken care of herself for a long time now, but that doesn't mean I wasn't going to offer anyways.

She smiles softly, "I'm a big girl, I think I can manage on my own, thanks though."

I stop her once more, "So how exactly do we get drunk?"

She leans into me and whispers, "I add a little Wolfsbane to my liquor. Stings like a bitch, but so does the alcohol so what's a little pain for the promise of a lot of pleasure."

I couldn't help but wonder if there was a double meaning behind her words.

She yells at Stiles out into the sitting room, "Bye, Stiles!"

He shouts back, "See ya, Malia!"

She looks at me once more and bumps into my shoulder in goodbye before retreating out the room.

MALIA POV:

After a short walk over, I burst through Theo's door without knocking, a courtesy that I had gained from the number of times he would show up unannounced.

Kira sits on the love seat in front of the tv and turns when she hears me walk in. She looks me up and down, "You look hot." She comments, before turning back to whatever trash reality show she was watching. She's wearing a silky purple camisole dress, frisky buckled black-heeled boots, crazy metallic makeup that brings out her eyes, and her hair straight and parted down the middle.

I look her over appreciatively, "Not as hot as you, I thought we were working to get me laid tonight, not you." I chuckle as she sticks her tongue out at me through two fingers.

She explains, "I saw this fiery red head walking around campus today. If I wasn't sure that I was a lesbian before, I am now." She laughs, "If I find her at the party I want to know if the curtains match the drapes." She inquires, licking her lips.

I snort a laugh, "Oh my god, Kira! I hope you don't ask her that. Besides, how do you even know she'll be at the party tonight?" I add, "And fiery, huh?" I chuckle, arching a dark brow.

She giggles, "Well I am a fire Kitsune, we're a match made in Heaven."

Theo chimes in as he walks out of his room, looking devilishly handsome as always, "Kira asked her when she got her number." He smirks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. "Her name is Lydia."

I stand there shook for a moment. This couldn't be the same Lydia Stiles was talking about, could it?

I guess he wasn't too far off with what he said about coincidences.

Theo keeps talking, "Yeah, her friend was hot too, I think her name was Allison."

I still. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Kira and Theo look at me curiously.

I prepare myself for what I'm about to tell them, "So I met my new roommate. There was a mix up when the RA assigned the rooms… and I got paired with a guy." I pause, watching their reactions, "Whose literally sex on legs. His name is Scott."

Theo smirks, "I'm going to need more details than that, Princess."

I chuckle at his enthusiasm and recount the way Scott had me up against the wall in two seconds flat upon our meeting, the masculinity that exudes off of him, the bits of stubble on his jaw, and the crooked smile that tops it all off and makes him utterly and completely fuckable. I decide to leave his gentle eyes, calm nature, and talented foot massaging skills to myself. Some things need to be sacred, don't they?

Kira chimes in while fanning herself, "Okay, I take back what I said about being a lesbian, I'm definitely bi. I haven't even met this guy yet and my panties are already wet."

"Kira!" Theo and I chastise playfully.

Theo adds, "Geez Kira, stop being such a little slut." He jokes, bantering back and forth with her.

She rolls her eyes, "I'm not. I'm just being myself." She argues, a saccharine smile lighting up her face. "Besides, this is Malia's man and I fully endorse this idea."

I chuckle at their antics, "He's not mine, besides I can't make a move on him, he's my roommate!"

Theo balks, "Rain check, we'll come back to this conversation later. Now continue with what you were saying."

I have the two eating out of the palm of my hand, waiting on me to release more juicy details, "His best friend Stiles has a thing for Lydia and Allison is Scott's other best friend." I pause again, "Who he also happens to be in love with." Taking a breath, "He's a True Alpha and they're all apart of his pack and I'm pretty sure there's more of them."

They look at me shocked.

"This just became super Degrassi to me." Kira throws in.

I choose to ignore her comment, "And there's one more thing, they know Peter."

Theo butts in, "Okay, one thing at a time. Now first, onto the thing that really matters, how do they know Peter?"

I run my fingers through my hair, a nervous habit I'd picked up from my mom, "I don't know but it didn't seem good. Stiles spoke of him with disdain, so I can only assume they all feel that way about him. He kept going on about how trusting new people is a bad idea and how can I even refute what he's saying when he's right? I'm keeping a secret from Scott about Peter being my dad." I sigh, biting at my lip, "I don't know how he'll take it."

Theo steps in, "You're getting ahead of yourself, you don't even know if it's the same Peter."

I stare at him dubiously, "How many evil bastards named Peter could there be in California?"

Kira places her hand on my shoulder, "I don't think you have anything to be worried about. Besides you just met the guy, you don't owe him anything."

I nod my head in agreement.

"I'll try to get a read on them tonight and then we can discuss a game plan later." He suggests, "But Malia, you shouldn't have to feel ashamed of who your father is just because they have history with him. You aren't Peter, but that doesn't mean that you're not allowed to defend him."

I quiet at that, all of a sudden feeling like I need to be left alone with my thoughts.

I fix myself a bowl of spaghetti and sit on the floor laying back against Kira's legs. Theo goes into his room to get ready.

I shovel a fork-full of pasta in my mouth, "I thought college was suppose to be easier." I grumble with my mouth full of food.

Kira smirks, "Who told you that?"

I frown, "The college brochure."

Our giggles fill the room.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I answer on the second ring, "Hello,"

Peter's voice flits through the receiver, "My only daughter, I'm happy you decided to pick up the phone this time."

I shrug my shoulders even though I know he can't see it, "I've been busy."

He replies, "What could be more important than talking to Dear Old Dad?"

I snark, "Oh you know, global warming, the gay pride parade, the women's march, napping… stuff like that." I can practically hear him shaking his head through the phone. "Talking to my actual father, Henry." I say, knowing exactly where to hit him to make it hurt.

I can here him shuffling around in the background.

Peter clears his throat, "Well now, if you're done playing on your usual teenage angst, can we for once just have a civilized conversation. I'm trying, Malia. I've been watching over Henry for you while helping him with bills, keeping tabs on the Desert Wolf, making sure your mother and sister's graves stay tidy and groomed, and paying for your college in full." He pauses, his voice softening a bit, "What's it going to take to get you to open up to me?"

I swallow the lump in my throat, my voice shaky, "I don't know." I get up off the floor to take this conversation outside. I open the door and lean against the red brick building, "I just- can't forget all the horrible things that you've done." I let out a breath I've been holding, "And I can't help hating myself for thinking that I might be following in your footsteps." I say, no malice or hate, just pure fact.

He sighs, "I get it… I'll get in touch with you next week. Let me know if you need money or food, and tell Henry I said hi."

He hangs up and the dead ring runs through my head like a flat line.

I don't know how long I stood in silence for but I felt my heart beating in my ears.

I walk back into the apartment to see Kira and Theo waiting for me with their arms outstretched. They always knew when I wasn't okay. I let out a little hiccup as my throat chokes up and a single tear falls down my face. I run into their arms and I'm immediately filled with warmth and surrounded by love. Who needs a biological family when you can make your own?

We chose each other, three lost bodies that needed a home for their souls. We found that in one another.

Kira wipes my tears with her thumbs, "I know it's hard, but you aren't in this alone."

Theo takes over, taking my face in his hands and kisses my forehead, "You're never alone."

I perk up slightly, "I know I always have you guys." I whisper, seeing my reflection in the mirror across the room, "I've smudged my makeup" I laugh, "Now I look like a raccoon."

Kira grabs my hand and pulls me into the bathroom with her makeup bag in tow and touches up the dark circles underneath my eyes, "Now you look just as hot as you did when you got here." She smiles, moving my hair behind my ear, "Are you ready to go have some fun?"

I mumble, "I could really use some fun."

Shaking my hair out and ruffling it with my fingers I turn to Kira, "Lets go."

We walk out the bathroom and Kira and I each link one arm around Theo's, stalking out of the apartment and into his 1967 Chevy Impala.

I know we've arrived when I hear "Swang" by Rae Sremmurd blaring through the speakers of the lavish, pristine white building, also known at the Zeta house. Bright, multi-colored lights flare through the windows and fog surrounds the front lawn. We park a couple blocks away and walk over passing beer kegs, lots of red solo cups littering the grass, and a drunk couple making out behind a tree.

As we pass, Kira stops and pulls a condom out of her purse and throws it at the couple, "Be safe!" She yells over the loud music, chuckling, and then continues with us up the massive granite steps.

I can't help but poke fun at her, "You're going to be a great mom."

She jabs me in the shoulder, "Shut up, you know children make me break out in hives."

Theo and I laugh all the way up the steps.

We walk through the door and a pretty brunette who looks like she could bust your balls on sight comes straight up to Theo. Drunk and horny she whispers in his ear, "I can call you daddy tonight back at my place…"

He leans back over, running his thumb over her bottom lip and moving his mouth up her neck until he reaches her ear, "Sorry Doll, I'm batting for the other team tonight."

She simply shrugs, "I'm down for that, too. I've never been with two guys before but I'm open to all experiences."

He chuckles, "I don't share."

We move on through the party leaving the girl behind. I decide to break off from them and search for Scott.

I wander the house, drunk idiots tripping over their feet and guys trying to spit game at girls typing away at their phones most likely asking friends for an escape. It's Stiles that I see first. I approach him cautiously, I know that he's not my biggest fan but with him inhibited and tipsy, now's a good time as any to call a ceasefire.

He sees me a second after I start in his direction, saluting me with a beer in his hand.

He waits until I'm next to him,"It's you." He says simply, giving me a glance before returning to his beer.

I shake off his dismissive greeting, "In the flesh." I lick my dry lips and try again, "You know, that beer isn't going to get you drunk. If you're looking for a good time, you need something stronger than that."

He finally looks over at me, "What if I'm not looking for a good time?"

I stare at him blankly, "Then why are you here?"

His light brown eyes pierce me, "To make sure that you are who you say you are."

I sigh, "Look Stiles, I'm not looking to cause any trouble. I came here for college the same as you and the same as Scott. I just want to feel normal and I can't do that with you sniffing around me like your waiting for the other shoe to drop."

He butts in, "So does that mean one has already dropped?" The detective in him coming out.

I growl, "How about this, you ease up a little and I'll give you a piece of advice."

He smirks, "And what could I benefit from your advice?"

I form a smirk of my own, "If you want Lydia to notice you, better do it fast because word on the street is that she's into girls and I happen to know one that's into redheads."

Stiles furrows his brows, "What does that mean?"

I pull a flask out of my purse and shove it into his chest, "It means lighten up and go woo her or you're going to miss your chance by standing here threatening me." I say, encouraging him to take a drink, "Bottoms up."

He takes a drink but still looks confused, "But Lydia's not gay."

I shrug, "No girl's gay until she gets her first taste of pussy." I lean into him, "Girls usually know what they're doing."

Stiles' eyes widen, "Are you talking from experience?"

My smirk deepens, "I've kissed my friend Kira once or twice, but that was when we first met." I spot her in the crowd, "We're like sisters now."

He takes another pull from the flask, "Have you seen Scott yet?"

I search the room at his words looking for a head of gorgeous chocolate curls, "Not yet, this place is packed."

He pulls me into his side just as the guy next to me bends over to throw up all over the ground.

"Party foul!" Someone yells within the crowd.

Stiles whisper-yells over the music, "Look, I'm not trying to be the bad guy or an asshole, I'm just looking out for Scott. He's my best friend and I protect my own."

I raise my head in acknowledgment, "Maybe we're more alike than you think, Stiles." I say, seeing a small smile rest on his lips.

He grabs my hand and ushers me through the party, "I'll take you to him."

I laugh, "So you knew where he was this whole time, you just wanted to intimidate me first?"

He smirks, "Something like that."

I squeeze his hand through the crowd so I don't lose him, "And?" I pester, waiting to see what he has to say.

He stops me in place, putting a hand on my shoulder, "Scott always sees the good in people. If he's right about you then you and I won't have a problem." Is all he says, before continuing through the maze of people.

"Does this mean you'll stop questioning everyone?"

Stiles just laughs, "A good detective never stops asking questions."

That shut me up.

I reach for a little bit more, "So are we cool now?" I ask, curious of how he would respond.

He shrugs his shoulders but his eyes give him away, "It's progress."

Scott comes into view when we turn the corner and holy shit, he's easily the sexiest guy in the room. He stands tall and indifferent, his mouth lost at the edge of a solo cup.

Goddammit Malia, you can't think things like that. He's your roommate.

I run my fingers through my hair to calm my nerves. Stiles squeezes my hand once more. I meet his gaze and he gives me a tight-lipped smile of encouragement before stalking off in the direction of who I presume is Lydia who's mingling with a couple other party goers.

Scott and I meet eyes across the room and I shuffle over and bump his shoulder.

"Hey there, roomie." I greet, giving him a once over.

"Hey Malia" He replies with a smile when he sees me checking him out, "Eyes up here Tate, I'm having a male crisis."

I gasp, "McCall, are you mocking my heel incident earlier?"

He chuckles, "I am," He teases, "But I really do need some help. See that girl over there?" He asks, pointing to a gorgeous blonde watching us from the dance floor, "Her name is Fiona, she's the one that invited me here."

I nod my head in approval, "Did you change your mind about taking someone home tonight?"

His cheeks turn red, "I don't know. I feel dirty going into something with the intention of taking someone home just to have sex with." He answers, "And I feel even worse because I feel like a part of me only wants to do it to get over Allison." He admits, staring at me with his soulful brown eyes before looking away.

I shrug, "It's okay to just want sex, Scott. You're only human, and a guy at that." I make him look at me, "But you shouldn't do it with Allison in mind, you should do it for you."

He moves from foot to foot, "I can't dance, either."

I let out a giggle, staring at him like he must be joking. "Scott, in case no one has ever told you this, you seem like a good guy. You don't have to know how to dance." I say, loosening the first few buttons of his shirt, "But here, I'll give you a few pointers." I say, taking his hands between mine and placing them on my hips.

"What are you doing?" He asks anxiously.

I look at him over my shoulder, "Just trust me, okay?"

"High For This" By the Weeknd flows the speakers. We start out easy and slow.

I begin rolling my hips to the beat of the music, my ass grinding against him. My back is pressed against his stomach and I can feel his heart beating erratically against my back. 

"You've just got to feel the music" I say as he starts to get into it, "And just let go."

The phantom pressure of the song's bass vibrates through my head causing me to shudder and arch my back into Scott's waiting grasp. He grabs onto me possessively, kneading a handful of my ass between his palms. He works me in circles until I'm seeing stars. I don't know how long we danced, I've lost track of time as the song switches. My body is alight and wound up like a coil waiting to spring free.

I stop when I realize what I'm doing. I remove myself from him and turn on my own accord. He looks at me with hungry eyes, every few seconds they flit down to my lips.

I tell myself it's just the liquor talking.

I put my hand on his chest to put some distance between us. This seems to bring him back as well.

I cough, "So, um- yeah. That's all you have to do and she'll be good and ready for you to take her home." I say, making sure not to maintain eye contact for too long. The moment is charged and tense and I can tell that he's trying to catch my eyes.

I finally look at him and smile, "I think I'm going to go mingle, but if I don't see you before you go, I'll meet you back at the dorm later." I assure him, giving him a small nudge in the direction of Fiona who had stopped watching us a long time ago.

I spy Kira standing in the corner watching a pretty red head who's chatting animatedly with Stiles. So this must be Lydia.

Kira wears a grouchy expression on her face as she watches them. Lydia excuses herself to fix her makeup, pulling out a tube of lipstick and reapplying it in a small compact mirror from her purse.

"She is definitely a lipstick lesbian." Kira says mid-observation.

I look at her funny, "How can you tell? She seemed to be having a good time talking to Stiles."

She gives me a look, "What the hell is a Stiles?" She pauses, thinking about it, "Oh yeah, the guy best friend of Scott."

I grin, "Wow, you do actually listen to me."

She continues on like I'd never even said anything, "Anyways," she starts, "He's totally a cover. She hasn't stopped making eye contact with me over his shoulder since they started talking. I'm not worried, she'll come to me when she's ready, just watch." She says smirking, "Look I'm not saying she isn't into guys," she pauses for a beat, "but she totally isn't into guys."

A deep laugh erupts from my stomach so bad that I have tears streaming down my face. "You're terrible."

She shrugs, "I just call them like I see them, sis."

I've had enough of this so I scour the house a little more until I come across a group of people in the middle of what looks like Seven Minutes In Heaven.

I take a seat next to a stunning brunette. Her medium length hair falls a little past her shoulders and is accented with highlights. Her eyes are big, brown and alluring, drawing me into them instantly.

She smiles when I sit down next to her, and not one of those fake smiles girls love to throw around, but a nice genuine smile.

The game continues, going a few rounds and I've yet to be picked.

Finally I get chosen and a beefy guy who looks like he's one beer away from blowing chunks leers at me, "You." He says, pointing at me. "You and her" He points at the brown-haired girl next to me, "You girls have to go into the closest for seven minutes. Kiss, fuck, I don't really care, just make sure it's loud enough for us to hear." He murmurs and fist bumps his friends as I cringe in disgust. I think I need to teach this asshole a lesson.

I turn to the girl next to me trying to communicate to her through my eyes to trust me.

She nods.

Good, she understands.

I challenge the guy who made the proposition, "Why take it to the closet, why not put on a show right here?" I dare, turning back to the girl in question.

Without warning, I grab a fist full of her hair and bring my mouth down slowly to her rosy, pink lips. She's soft and sweet at first, timid and unsure. But then she starts to move a little more at a time, gradually moving into my lap. I scratch at her scalp and she moans, taking my bottom lip between her teeth and sucking. Her hand circles around the back of my neck to bring me closer and I oblige happily, falling deeper into her hot mouth. This could have gone on for minutes or hours, I don't really know. I'm dizzy and drunk on the taste of her lips.

We pull apart. My lips are bruised and there's a small split where she bit me, the taste of her cherry chap stick lingering.

She looks at me and fucking smirks.

I turn my head to see who all was watching and none other than Scott McCall stands in the doorway with a look that's a mixture of anger and… lust.

I look away, confused.

I pull apart from the girl and smile at her, "I underestimated you, my name is Malia."

She smiles back and her eyes sparkle, "You and every guy I've ever dated. Hi, I'm Allison."

I internally panic. Now it all makes sense, I just made out with Scott's ex-girlfriend.

I feel his demanding gaze burning holes into my skull. Finally I can't take it anymore, turning to meet his eyes in question.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Thanks for reading. Please take some time to leave a review to help me better my writing and the characters. Detailed reviews are very appreciated and aid in the updating process. I want to thanks TheFlashFics94 for being my biggest supporter and editor, helping me make my stories the best they can be. Check out some of her stories!


	3. Smile Like You Mean It

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Earned It" The Weeknd and "Obsession" Sky Ferreira and "To The Rain" Fraser James

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: There's going to be some smut from now on so I changed the rating to M, just a heads up if you're not into that sort of thing.

THEO POV:

I stand back in the corner as I watch the party unfold before me.

All this liquor is making me feel warm. I shed my leather jacket and lick the vodka staining my lips.

I catch eyes with a few guys scattered throughout the house, some girls too. But none of them really hold my attention.

I guess tonight is going to be another one of those nights. I lean over to one of the guys next to me and ask where the bathroom is. After some twists and turns I finally see a small door at the end of a deserted hall. I decide to put my leather jacket back on, who knows what's gone on in this bathroom.

Moving inside, I begin fumbling with the zipper of my jeans. I concentrate on aiming at the toilet, but being slightly drunk isn't exactly doing me any favors. Humming to myself, I get on with my business.

When I'm about to tuck myself away I hear a loud crash just as a guy with dirty blonde hair bursts through the door, slamming the it behind him. He presses his forehead against the door looking like he's trying to catch his breath. He hasn't even noticed me yet.

I clear my throat to get his attention and he jumps back in surprise.

He stutters, "Sorry dude, I didn't realize anyone was in here."

I look at him impatiently, "Well now you do."

An awkward silence ensues and he still doesn't make a move to leave. He anxiously shifts his eyes down to my dick still in my hands before moving back up to my face then looking away.

I quirk an eyebrow, "Are you waiting for a show?" I ask, putting myself back in my boxers and zipping up my jeans.

He blushes, "I'm just- I don't really want to go back out there. My ex-girlfriend is here and it was a messy breakup." He moves to brush the hair out of his eyes as he rests his head and body against the door frame, "I just came to have a good time with my friends and now I'm hiding out here because I'm scared." He says but then stops when he realizes that he's venting to a complete stranger, "Sorry, you probably don't really care, I tend to ramble when I'm nervous."

I give him a reassuring smile, "Why'd you guys break up?" I ask, mostly politeness outweighing my curiosity.

He bits his lip while looking down at his hands, "Well… she kind of caught me kissing a guy." He stutters out, "But it was a complete misunderstanding, he kissed me. I'm not into boys."

His heart jumps at the last sentence.

I quirk an eyebrow deciding to mess with him a bit, "Oh so you're not into guys your age, that makes sense. You dig the older type. So men, then?"

He mumbles out, "No-no, I meant that I like girls, not boys."

I smirk seeing the lie on his lips clear as day but decide to play along, "Why is that?"

He watches me advance on him as he nervously takes a step back, "Why what?"

"I mean, why aren't you into guys?" I ask, invading his personal space. I stand a couple inches taller than him, "Your girlfriend had to of gotten worked up over something substantial for her to break up with you over it." I add, by this time I have him backed against the door with my arms placed flat above his head. "Like maybe seeing you… kiss the other guy back?"

I can smell his arousal before I even register it by his body language.

My perfect vision gives me a chance to take in his boyish features and I'd be lying if I said my dick didn't get hard as well.

His eyes are the first thing I notice, morning blue with a faint trail of green that you'd miss if you weren't looking close enough, floppy dirty blonde hair, and dark pink lips that I could picture wrapped around my hard, engorged…

The sound of his nervous cough interrupts my fantasy, "Dude, what are you doing?"

I push back the bit of hair that hangs over his eyes. When my hand touches him, he shivers involuntarily and unconsciously nuzzles deeper into my hand until he realizes what he's doing and flinches back, "I'm just trying to decide if you really believe the bullshit you've been feeding yourself. It's okay to be confused over being attracted to men but denying it forever isn't going to make it untrue." I say, pulling away and watching his persona come back, "It's the twenty-first century man, being gay or bi is widely accepted in today's society."

The boy in question's jaw clenches, a fine purple vein prominent over the side of his forehead and his eyes flash a surreal yellow. Ah, so he's a werewolf. A beta.

He puffs out his chest in anger, the rise and fall hypnotizing as his abs flex across the cotton tshirt he's wearing, "You don't know anything." He breaths between strangled words.

I get up in his face, having perfected the art of seduction over the years, "Then why did you tell me that story, huh? It seems to me that you're seeking some validation. You've been keeping this secret bottled up probably for a while now and you crave for someone to just listen and understand. I bet you're afraid to go to your friends because you're worried of how they'll react, or maybe you we're raised with strict religious values with homophobic parents." I press, "I don't know your story or why you're so afraid of getting out of the closet, but I can tell you that the light outside of it is a lot more liberating than the darkness of being trapped in it."

He seems to calm down but his guard is still dangerously high, "I'm not gay." He states with a stoic expression.

I play a charming smile, "That's okay, I'm not much into labels either."

He lashes out, pushing against my chest until I bump against the towel rack. "Why don't you mind your own fucking business. What and who I find sexually attractive has nothing to do with you."

"Oh really?" I smirk, "Then why did your dick get hard the second I touched you."

He readily denies it as he shoves away from me, "I don't know what you're talking about."

I chuckle at that, "Then why are you covering the front of your jeans?" I press on, "I might as well let the cat out of the bag." I say, flashing my blue eyes, "I'm just like you and that means I can tell when you're lying, not that I'd really need that since your chemo signals speak for them self."

He decides to ignore that last part, "What are you?" He growls.

I snicker holding my hands up in defense, "Chimera. I was biologically manufactured with the DNA of a werecoyote. A bunch of creepy bastards kidnapped me when I was eight years old and experimented on me." I confess, "The charisma and finesse, however, that's all me." I explain cockily, leaning closer until my breath fans his face.

He rolls his eyes, "What's your name?"

I lean against the opposite wall with a cool expression, "Does it matter?"

I take sure, confident steps towards him until we're almost touching.

I palm the front of his jeans and a throaty groan leaves his mouth. He grinds into my hand, rubbing himself up and down to achieve more friction. I slowly make my way to my knees, keeping his eyes the whole way down. I expertly maneuver his zipper with my teeth, scraping the blunt edges against the thick bulge that's presses against the confines of his boxers. I look up at him for consent and he bobs his head, giving me the go ahead to continue. I move along, freeing him from his boxers and watching his dick spring free from his jeans and I moan on sight.

I touch him slowly, pumping up and down as he squirms in pleasure, "Look at me." I command, "Look at me when I fuck you with my mouth." I order, our eye contact never wavering. His fingers latch onto my hair, each touch spurs a response out of him. He pulls at the hairs on the back of my neck, threading his fingers deeper as I tease him.

I take him into my mouth, licking and sucking at every inch of skin that hits my tongue. I begin by lapping at the tip, giving special attention to it before taking him all the way down my throat, working him up into his first orgasm like it's a science.

"Oh fuck." He groans and I keep going, loving the little sounds he makes as he covers his mouth with his sleeve so no one will hear us.

I can feel that he's getting close and I look up at him, "You don't come until I say you can, is that clear?

He lets out another groan when he feels the vibrations of my throat around his dick.

I stop my movements, "Did you hear me?"

He chokes out a yes, pressing my head back in place, "Please, fuck, keep going."

I smirk at that, sucking harder in between strokes. I can tell that he's about to explode but I tease him a little further, running my teeth over the shaft.

His eyes flash gold, "I'm gonna-"

I flash my blue eyes at him, "Cum, now."

With a muffled yell he cums down my throat and I moan around him, licking him clean.

He slumps against the wall, his pants still around his ankles and his still semi-hard dick saluting me in greeting.

I chuckle at his enthusiasm. Before he can say anything his phone begins to ring and the name 'Scott' flashes across the screen. I wonder if this is the same sexy roommate that has Malia's panties in a bunch.

He answers it quickly pressing the phone against his ear, "Hey-hey Scott, what's up?" He stutters out, probably still feeling the aftershocks of his orgasm.

A deep voice speaks, "Liam, are you okay, I haven't seen you since you and Isaac got here."

So Mr. I'm-Not-Gay has a name.

"Yeah I'm fine, I just needed to take a breather, it's pretty crowded." He deflects, running his hand down his face.

I can hear a sigh through the phone, "You saw Hayden, didn't you?"

Liam clams up, the stench of his guilt radiating to my nose, "Sort of, I don't really want to talk about it."

"It's okay I won't ask you to, but the offer still stands if you change your mind. You can talk to me, Liam."

Liam runs his fingers through his tousled hair, "Thanks Scott, I'll find you in a little bit."

He hangs up the phone and turns towards me, "I- uh- I gotta go."

I chuckle, "Not up for a round two?" Arching my brow, "That's okay, you're just a pup. I was looking for someone a little more… experienced to take home with me tonight."

Liam balks offended,"I'm experienced."

I look at him disbelievingly, "I could smell your innocence when you walked in the room."

He stands his ground, "Well you didn't seem to mind when you got on your knees for me." He says bravely, his chin jutted out and his eyes ablaze.

I roll my eyes, "I was doing you a favor, you needed to come to terms with who you are so I just sped up the process. I don't usually go for virgins… unless you're offering?" I suggest, glancing over his lean, muscular body.

His eyes lit up just faintly before it's gone, "I need to get back to my friends." He says, turning to the door, "Can you not say anything about this-"

"Raeken, Theo Raeken." I say confidently.

He cracks a smile, "What are you, James Bond?"

I survey him for a moment, "I'm more partial to James Dean." Flashing a grin I graze his boner with my hand, "You sure you have to go?"

He looks up at my lips and then back up at my face, "This was a one time thing." He promises, taking a step back and turning the knob.

"I'll see you around, Liam." I grin, giving him one last once over to commit to memory.

He looks down at his feet embarrassed and slightly scared. I can smell it coming off of him in waves. He brings his gaze back to me with pleading eyes, "Under different circumstances, maybe."

He walks out the door without looking back.

MALIA POV:

"Shit" I mumble.

Allison looks at me curiously, "What's wrong, did something happen?"

I give her a small smile, "No, everything's fine, there's just something I have to take care of."

I turn back to the door but Scott is already gone. I get to my feet and push through the people standing around socializing and dancing. One of the guys that had been watching us play Seven Minutes in Heaven pulls me into his arms and drunkenly sways me around, "Hey gorgeous, dance with me."

I grimace at the stench of liquor on his breath when he blows it in my face, "Hard pass." I mumble in disgust, "Now please get your hands off of me."

Freeing one of my arms, I make a move to leave but he latches roughly on my opposite wrist pulling me back, "Now that's not very ladylike. I bet a pretty thing like you could really move that ass of yours." He leers, having the audacity to squeeze one cheek between his dirty hands.

My nostrils flare and a growl escapes my furled lips.

His laughter dies on his tongue and turns into a garbled scream when I take the hand latched to my wrist, removing it with enough pressure to fracture a few bones, and twist his arm around until I hear a sickening snap.

He screams in pain, "You fucking crazy bitch!"

Just as he raises his other hand to strike me, a tan rough hand reaches out and captures it between it's strong grip.

Scott stands protectively in front of me with a murderous look in his once warm brown eyes. A snarl leaves his mouth, his face distorted into the very meaning of "if looks could kill."

He stands quite a few inches taller than the other guy, dark and handsome in his anger. Taking him by the throat he shoves the guy against the wall of the house that makes a small dent where his head collides with it. The guy trembles in fear, "Don't do it again." Scott growls in his ear.

The calmness of his voice is like being pelted with frozen rain, sending chills down my spine.

He releases the idiot and he falls on his ass. His friends come help him him up, using their bodies as crutches while making sure to avoid eye contact with Scott as they leave.

Scott moves over to me and puts his hands on my shoulders, "Are you okay?"

I can sense the lingering anger simmering under his skin. His forehead creases and his brows furrow. His mouth lays in a firm line, his jaw fixed in place. His eyes cut down to mine.

I cover his hand with mine, "Are you, okay?" I ask, sensing his unease. I could of handled that guy myself but I can't lie and say that Scott's aggressiveness when that idiot touched me didn't make me swoon a little bit.

His eyes glitter with concern, "I just wanted to make sure that you we're alright." He explains, making a move to leave.

I pull him back, "Are we okay?" I whisper exasperated. "I saw the way you looked at us. I didn't know that was Allison. I wouldn't have kissed her if I had." I give him a small smile, "But I also saw that you liked it."

He cracks a smile of his own, "Seeing two beautiful girls kiss isn't exactly the worse thing I've ever seen." He mumbles shyly and rolls his eyes. I giggle at his awkwardness.

"How did things go with Fiona?" I inquire, his face unreadable.

He shrugs, "She was really drunk so I tucked her in upstairs in one of the empty rooms. One of her friends is watching over her."

I smirk, "Look at you being all chivalrous."

He smiles, "I didn't do anything special. She was vulnerable and needed someone to take care of her. I would want someone to do that for my mom if she were in the same position."

His humbleness leaves me reeling. A sudden sense of timidness rushes over me. I look up at him through my lashes, "I was right about you, McCall."

He looks at me confused, "Right about what?"

My brown eyes bleed into his, "You're good. And humble. And kind. That's rare to find in people these days."

"I've made mistakes," He replies, "I had a hard time accepting what I was for a while. But then one day someone reminded me that not all monsters do monstrous things." He supplies, chancing a glance over at Stiles and Lydia that stand talking in the corner. "In the midst of everything, I look to my friends." His eyes find Allison, "She was my anchor for a long time, but I realized that she couldn't be my crutch forever." He says, still drinking her in with his eyes, "I figured out that a person can't be the thing that makes you want to be better."

"And now?" I question.

He returns my gaze, "And now I help people because I can, because it's in my power to." He says, "But it goes deeper than that for the people I care about."

I'm saved from having to reply when Allison makes her way over with a wary smile, "Hey Scott" She starts before turning to me and her smile widens a fraction more, "Hi Malia," She clears his throat from nerves, her doe eyes soft, "I just wanted to clear the air."

Scott pulls her into a hug, "Everything's fine Ally, this is my roommate Malia."

Her eyes widen, "No kidding." She chuckles, turning her full attention to me, "You're a great kisser, by the way."

I grin lazily, "Well I had a great partner." I laugh, "McCall here was just telling me how hot we were."

I giggle at the guilty look on his face and Allison joins in, "It's a normal male consensus." He defends with a shy smile, gesturing to the males flocked around them looking for a repeat performance.

Allison looks between the two of us with a little smirk.

"I have something I need to tell you and the others" He says, speaking to Allison. "Malia and I both do." He explains shifting his attention back to me, "Why don't you get your friends together and meet us back at our room."

I nod in agreement, "Okay, let me find Theo and Kira."

I catch Kira hanging around Lydia and Stiles, the two girls making flirty eyes at each other while Stiles stands oblivious to the eye sex happening in front of him. I almost pull him aside, but I think better of it deciding that it's none of my business.

Once I finally pull Kira away from the red head, I search around for Theo. Over the crowd I catch a glimpse of him leaving the bathroom, a smug grin on his face.

We meet eyes and he stumbles over, "I haven't seen you guys all night."

Kira and I roll our eyes simultaneously, "We've seen each other a few times, but where have you been?" I imply with a knowing look.

He looks at me cheekily, "I was teaching a pup some new tricks."

I don't even want to know what that means.

"Scott wants our packs to meet up back at our place. I guess this is his way of breaking the ice and introducing everyone."

Theo narrows his eyes, "Are you sure we can trust them, Malia? You've only known this guy for a day."

"Do I really have a choice? He's my roommate."

He looks at me unconvinced, "By choice." He adds, before looking to Kira for help.

She shrugs, "He's got a point. Lydia and Stiles seemed nice but he's right, we don't know anything about them or their intentions."

I look at them in annoyance, "Well there's only one way to find out."

Theo picks up on my frustration, "All I'm saying is that we shouldn't go into this blind. We have to be a little cautious." He explains, "Don't let your little crush on this guy mess with your head, Malia."

I growl at him, "Don't worry about me, I'm not letting my guard down. And I don't have a crush on him. Sure, he's hot but that's all it is." I assure.

Theo stares at me for a long time until he's sure he believes me, "Alright then, let's go make friends and sing kumbaya, ladies." He mumbles sarcastically, holding out both arms for us to take.

I hold back an eye roll and link up with the two as we walk out of the house.

SCOTT POV:

I round up the group and we agree to meet back at my dorm. I was going to wait for Malia but I figured it would look strange to the other party goers if a big group of us all left together.

I pass the dude that laid a hand on her when we walk down the steps and I fix him with a steely glare, a clear warning in my dark brown eyes. He quickly looks away.

We decided to walk since were all partially drunk and agreed that we'd come back for our cars tomorrow. Stiles offered to drive the ladies home since he only had a little more than one beer but Lydia shooed of his request, leaning sleepily against his shoulder as they walked. That shut him up real quick.

We arrive back at the dormitories and maneuver down the dimly lit hallways. We come up to Stiles and I's hallway when a beautiful girl with skin the color of warm espresso gives us a friendly wave and stops us, "Hey my name is Braedan, I'll be your new RA. They fired the last girl for getting a bunch of complaints about mix ups in the roommate assignments." She chuckles and I smile back anxiously hoping I don't look as guilty as I feel, "I'm right down the hall if you guys ever need me." She says, moving on down to her room near the end.

Stiles laughs beside me, "Good one, Scotty."

Erica and Boyd come walking down the halls.

"So what was so important that you had to interrupt my netflix time?" She sasses, red lips slanted down in a frown.

Stiles jumps in, "Hey, you said you had stuff to do so you couldn't come to the party!"

She looks at him blankly, "Hello, did you not just hear what I said? I was watching my shows and Boyd offered to come help me move my stuff in." She says, putting her arm around the other boy's waist.

Stiles narrows his eyes at the display.

I cut in, "Everyone just get inside. It may be a tight squeeze but we'll make it work, these nicer dorms are a little bigger." I say, gesturing everyone inside, "Just make yourself at home and when Malia gets here we can talk around the island in the kitchen."

Isaac unwraps his scarf and lays it down on the futon, "This place is definitely not a normal freshman dorm, this thing looks more like an apartment." He says, looking around, "I got one of the lame dorms, this place has a freaking kitchen, bathroom, sitting room, and a bedroom with a bay window." He says in awe, moving around the space. "How did you afford this, Scott?"

I look a little sheepish, "My lacrosse scholarship covers a lot and my mom has been saving up for my college since I was born. She made sure to put all my dad's child support in a savings account and it just added up over time." I say lowly, hating to mention that my dad has any part in me being here, "I'm not really sure how Malia got this dorm, I didn't get chance to ask."

In that moment, Malia walks into the apartment with a guy and girl following behind her. She joins the conversation, "I joined the track team. I used to go running by the woods near my home and I realized that I was pretty good at it." She turns to her friends, "So this is Kira and Theo."

Kira chimes in, "Lydia and I have met already." She smirks, watching as the red head blushes, scanning her from head to toe with hooded lids. "And I met Stiles and Allison briefly." She adds as an after thought.

Theo tacts onto her greeting, "We bumped into the girls walking around campus earlier today." He looks over at the short, stocky guy next to Scott, "Liam and I kept each other company at the party." He says lightly, but I can see that's there's more to it by the way his eyes linger on him a sec longer than necessary.

I used to have a feeling that Liam had a little crush on Isaac when he first met him back in high school but not too long after he started dating Hayden. I brushed off the feeling for a while but he never really explained what happened between the two of them. I would catch him still making eyes at Isaac sometimes when he didn't think anyone was looking but I never said anything. I figured he would come to me whenever he was ready.

I cough to hide my grin. I'll have to ask him about that later.

I step up with a friendly smile, "Since most of you guys have met, maybe we can go around and tell everyone a little more about ourselves." I suggest, meeting Malia's eyes. "You're up, Tate."

She walks forward until everyone can see her with those long, creamy legs on full display. She opens up with a fuchsia painted smile, "I'm Malia as most of you probably know by now." She starts slowly, "And I'm a werecoyote."

Everyone goes around in a circle.

"Kira. Kitsune." The dark-haired girl says shortly.

"Theo," The other guy begins cautiously, "…Chimera. I guess you could say I'm an artificial werecoyote." He tacks on. I see his eyes shift to Malia. I wonder what that's about.

We move onto my pack.

Liam starts, " I'm Liam. Werewolf. Isaac, Erica, and Boyd are as well."

Erica snaps, "Thanks for the introduction, ass hat. I could of introduced myself."

Liam rolls his eyes at her outburst. "Women…" He grumbles under his breath.

A few chuckles are heard around the room and we move along.

Allison waves, "Allison. Hunter." She says sweetly.

Lydia is next, "Lydia. Banshee." She states smoothly.

Stiles steps up, "Stiles. Human. I was once possessed by an evil fox spirit." He says looking pointedly at Kira, "A nogitsune."

Theo pesters him, "So what are you now?"

Stiles furrows his eyebrows, "…Better."

Finally I introduce myself, "I'm Scott. I'm the Alpha of the pack." I say modestly.

Malia pulls her golden-bronze hair up into a messy bun, "Well now that everyone has met, I need my sleep for the first day of school tomorrow or I'm going to be really bitchy in the morning." She yawns, "You don't want that, McCall." she teases.

I smirk, "You heard the lady, everyone out."

Stiles snarks, "She already got you whipped, buddy?"

Lydia smacks him upside the head, "Stop being an idiot and let them get to sleep. Come on," She orders before walking up to Kira, winking at her and dropping a small kiss on her cheek. The dark-haired girl looks taken aback, touching the place where her pink lipstick stains her skin with a shit-eating grin.

Theo walks past Liam as he's leaving, "I guess I found the right circumstance, pup." He whispers in his ear before walking out the door. Liam freezes at his comment before shuffling out of the dorm.

Yep, I'll definitely need to look into that.

Isaac and Boyd follow out after him giving a friendly wave goodbye as they pass Malia and I.

Allison and Stiles leave last, coming up to talk to us before they go.

She pulls me into a hug first and then Malia. I can tell that she already likes her. She smiles, "This one is a snorer. I'd invest in some earplugs if I were you." She suggests teasingly while patting my cheek lightly.

Stiles pipes up, "I can attest to that. Dude's like a freaking bear." He leans into Malia, "You'll get used to it."

She giggles at their gabs and I take it like a champ, play fighting with Stiles as we near the door.

Stiles pulls me aside, "I heard what happened earlier between the girls. They look pretty cozy together over there, don't you think?" He asks. We avert our attention over to the girls chatting away and exchanging matching grins. "I wonder what their pillow fights would be like…" Stiles sighs dreamily.

I punch him in the shoulder, "Hey knock it off, that's my ex-girlfriend and my…"

Stiles cuts me off, "roommate?" He supplies, smiling goofily at my pause.

I glower and shove him playfully, "Yeah, that." I look back over at the girls, "They're already hitting it off pretty well."

Stiles catches on to my hesitance, "Are you okay with that?" He asks.

I shrug, "Yeah, sort of, I guess. I don't know. It doesn't really matter, I don't have a say in it. Allison can be friends with whoever she wants and I can see that Malia is very headstrong herself." I explain, gazing at the two girls in question, "I'm cool with it."

"You and Malia seem to getting along pretty well."

I can sniff out the implication in his tone.

I look at him, "Malia and I aren't anything, this is just a mutual agreement to make this roommate thing work. Besides, I'm not looking for anything."

Stiles looks at me knowingly, "But if you we're…" He goads, pulling me out into the hall for more privacy, "I know you at least think she's hot and even though you're still hung up on Allison I have a feeling that Malia has gotten under you skin, just a little bit."

There's really no point in lying because Stiles knows me so well, there was nothing that we could hide from each other.

I smile thinking about our first conversation, "She's blunt, that's for sure. Strong, definitely. Fun, absolutely. She's carefree and doesn't have a filter and I guess part of me finds that refreshing. She says what she means and doesn't bat an eyelash." I recall, "But she also has a little danger in her and I'm not sure how far that goes."

Stiles hangs onto my every word, "Do you think we need to watch out for her?"

I sigh, "I'm going to give her a respectable amount of trust until she gives me a reason not to."

At that, Allison opens the door and joins us outside, "What are you two talking about?" She questions nosily, no real weight behind her question.

Stiles beats me to it, "I was just promising Scott that I would make sure you got back to yours and Lydia's dorm safely."

Allison huffs, "I'm not a little girl, I can take care of myself. As a hunter, I can protect myself better than you can." She harps, looking at Stiles and then back at me, "If anything, I'd be best if he stayed here."

I put my hand on her shoulder, "You're right, I'm sorry. Old habits die hard, I guess." I pause, deciding if what I'm about to say next will mess with the easy friendship we've fallen back into, "I heard what you said to Malia at the party about all your exes underestimating you." I start and I see her face fall in guilt, "I'm sorry that I ever made you feel that way. You continue to surprise me and prove that you're capable of anything, including walking yourself home without one of us shadowing you. I shouldn't of treated you like you're made of glass, you held your own with creatures akin to my size and strength."

She sighs and flashes her doe eyes at me as her bottom lip trembles, "I didn't mean for you to hear that-"

I stop her, "It's okay, you were right."

She gives me a sad smile and bows her head, "Good night, Scott."

I pull her into one last hug, running my fingers through her chestnut hair and breathe in her jasmine scent that once reminded me of home, "Be careful."

MALIA POV:

Waning moonlight floods through the open doors of the bay window. I light some in-scents that mask the room in a warm vanilla and lavender, my full attention out at the too black sky that sits so still.

I breathe in the fresh air with a woolen quilt wrapped around my shoulders that keeps in the warmth like an earthy blanket. I look out at the towering tree that stands near the window; all gnarly wood, moist leaves, and branches that resemble crooked fingers.

I can hear Scott moving around in the sitting room, his foot steps becoming a familiar pattern. My hair still lays in a knotted bun. My eyes are bleary from lack of sleep. Goosebumps dance up my arms from the chill.

I check my phone and see a text from Peter and one from my dad.

I'm sorry I upset you. Just remember that I am trying and I want this to work, I hope you do, too. -Peter

I miss u, sweetheart. Can't wait to see u soon, night. -Dad

I stare at Peter's message for a few minutes and choose to ignore it. I shoot my dad a quick text back and then set my phone on the nightstand.

I take out the rubber band and let my unruly hair hang around my shoulders, wipe off any traces of makeup from my face, and trade in my dress for a loose-fitted crop top and a pair of my track shorts.

Scott walks into the room with headphones in his ears, shedding his shirt with bronze flesh and tight muscles falling hostage underneath the lights from the moon. He turns to see me watching him amused and he jumps, taking out his earphones, "You scared the shit out of me. I forgot you were in here." He breaths, calming his racing heart, "I'm not used to sharing a room with someone."

Something inside of me finds pleasure at that little detail.

Unfiltered words slip through my mouth before I can catch myself, "Why is your heart beating so fast? You seem nervous for someone who had a girl friend for a long time."

Scott stills at my question as if he thinking of the best way to answer. Finally he gives away, "Allison's father would have shot me on sight if he caught Allison in bed with me. He took a long time to warm up to me when he found out what I am, but I guess you could say we're allies now."

I chuckle to myself, "Him and my father would get along great. My dad has a collection of guns in our basement that he polishes every night before he goes to sleep. He named his favorite shot gun, Polly."

Scott smiles at that, "So did your dad use Polly to threaten your old boyfriends?"

Laying my head flat against the pillows, I stare up at the ceiling, "I never really had the time for boyfriends growing up." I reply, resentment bleeding into my words.

Before Scott could question me further, I turn over with my back facing him. My attention drifts to the bay window that overlooks the sky that's now a graveyard of stars staring back at me. I pray that tonight I'm able to get at least six hours of sleep and that things don't get bad again. I don't need Scott looking at me like I'm some sort of basket case. I hum Summertime under my breath until the shadows of sleep finally pull me under.

SCOTT POV:

I wake to the sound of garbled words infiltrating my hyper-sensitive ears. I roll over and check the clock seeing that it's 3:27 am, I've only been asleep for about three and a half hours. I see Malia tucked into her sheets that smell of sweat and fear, talking in hushed whispers under her breath. I sit up in my bed as the drowsiness wears off and I listen in. Rubbing my eyes, I look over at her to see her eyes screwed shut, worry lines etched on her forehead, and her damp hair sticking to her clammy, pale skin.

"Malia" I call, but she's lost in sleep, her eyebrows scrunching together as she clings to the bed sheets. Upon closer inspection, I see that not only is she clutching the covers, but her claws have appeared, making holes in the material. She's losing control.

She tosses and turns, calling out in a frightened voice, "I can't move… I can't move." She cries, tears streaming down her cheeks. "I can't feel anything." I climb into the bed and cradle her in my arms, slowly running my hands up her arms to keep her warm. She convulses as chills wrack her body, "Why did you kill them?" She lets out a snarl that drifts off into a whimper, "Why did you take my family from me?"

What was she dreaming about?

Who killed her family?

What about her dad?

Freaking out, I put away the questions for now and try to stay calm. Stiles used to get panic attacks on and off for a long time after the Nogitsune, but he hadn't had one in a while. His episodes have been few are far between but the experience still haunts him. Sometimes I'd catch him staring out the window in class with a far away look in his eye, but there was a stain there that could never be erased. Our lives had escalated to a point where we couldn't sweep our trauma under the rug anymore.

She seems to respond to the sound of my voice, her fingers have stopped shaking and her grip on the bed sheets loosens. I grab her cold, slick hands between my warm ones and apply light pressure, alternating between blowing on them and brushing my hands against hers for heat.

Grasping her shoulders, I try to rouse her awake, "Malia, breathe. You have to open your eyes, okay? Open your eyes, Malia, you don't need to be afraid. I'm not going to hurt you, you're safe." I murmur soothingly, supporting her head against my chest and smoothing the matted, wet hair from her face. I run a timid finger down the length of her face from temple to cheek and she curls deeper into my hand. She inches her eyes open and I feel more naked under her gaze then I have ever felt in a moment of intimacy with anyone else.

Her eyes illuminate an ethereal blue that blankets the room in a faint glow. My wolf instantly responds, the red of my own eyes bleeding into hers, making a tempered violet in between us. For a moment she looks terrified and lost, but when she really sees me she stills in my arms. I wrestle with the blankets and pull them over us to return some heat to her body. Her forehead breaks out in a cold sweat.

"Scott" She breathes, her eyelids fluttering as she takes me in.

"Do you want to talk about it?" I offer.

Malia shakes her head vigorously, crawling out of my arms and sitting across from me with her legs Indian style and her hands in her lap."I don't want to talk about me." She sighs, running a shaking hand through her hair. Her brown eyes shift to me, "I want to talk about you- something, anything- just distract me, please."

I go along with it, "What do you want to know?"

She picks up a picture of my mom and I off the nightstand, "Why didn't your mom come help you move in?" She asks, running her finger over the frame. She looks at me curiously.

I shrug, "She had a shift at the hospital that day and was trying to get it rescheduled but I insisted that it was fine. She loves being involved in my life but sometimes its easier to keep her out because it's safer." I explain and Malia nods in understanding while encouraging me to go on, "She knows about me, what I am and what my friends are. She's the one who patches us up when the others and I come out less than unscathed."

"Your mom's a nurse?" She perks up at my words.

The corners of her lips upturn, "She sounds like a total bad ass." The small smile widening, "I'm a nursing major. Maybe when she visits I can use that to my advantage so she isn't too upset with me for coercing her innocent son into sharing a room with me."

"Well I'm not exactly innocent in this situation either." I say, nervously placing a hand over hers and giving it a gentle squeeze, "You seem more relaxed now."

She responds by running her thumb over my knuckles and squeezes it back, "You're a nice distraction." She murmurs quietly, still staring at our interlocked hands before meeting my questioning gaze, "Thank you… for helping me. It's been a long time since I've felt safe."

I scoot closer to her to a comfortable distance, "What we're you dreaming about, Malia?"

"My adopted mom and sister. They we're slaughtered by my biological mother, the Desert Wolf." She confesses, her voice hard and detached. "When a werecoyote gives birth, she passes down most of her power to her child. My biological mom got pregnant by my birth father and went into hysterics when she found out. My cousin said she tried to cut me out of her, called me a parasite." Her voice softening, "When I was born, my aunt stole me away and put me up for adoption so my mother couldn't find me, but eventually… she did."

Tears leak from the corner of her eyes and she quickly wipes them away, "My dad was working late and I took the bus home from school. My sister Kylie had been sick with the flu and mom had stayed home to take care of her. I got off the bus and walked inside and there she was." She pauses, staring into my eyes but feeling so far away, "My sister was who I saw first. Her small body laid broken and bloodied at the bottom of the stairs. I screamed and ran to her and took her into my arms not caring about the blood. Her dead blue eyes looked right through me and her skin was so cold. I used to be jealous of her eyes. I always hated mine, dull, brown, and flat with nothing extraordinary about them. Hers were beautiful, like an ocean, bottomless and bright. She was so young and vivacious, full of life and color. She was the complete opposite of me." She says, reveling in the memories, "I tried to save her but there was nothing left to save. She was gone and I didn't know why."

Crumpled and beaten down, Malia still manages to carry on with her story.

"My mom had just found out she was pregnant not long before that. I was so excited to have another sister or brother, but at the same time I felt lonelier than ever. I feared that with having two children that were biologically theirs, my parents would start to resent taking me in. I thought maybe they would start to love me less, but they weren't those kind of people. Anyways, I searched through the house crying for my mom and I finally found her, her stomach cut open and torn out with jagged lines and blood staining everything she touched. But what was worse was the silent scream that still sat in her eyes as they were left open, her mouth as well. I could smell the residual fear that surrounded the place, she had been terrified in her final moments. And the Desert Wolf stood over her, claws out with chunks of my mother's flesh stuck in them and with no ounce of remorse in her dark, black eyes. She looked at me and said she figured that she was doing my mom a favor, how the wonders of childbirth were anything but a miracle. " She explains, clutching my hand harder until I feel my bones start to creak under the pressure.

"She enjoyed it. She got off on their screams and their agony. The worst thing was I knew that it was all my fault. She killed them because of me and I don't think I'll ever get over that. I had been so mad and shaking in anger with tears streaming down my face and she laughed at me. She fucking laughed in my face. I lunged at her, eight year old me thinking recklessly and blindly, only wanted to make her hurt as much as I was hurting. That's how I got this." She states, lifting up her shirt where silvery white claw marks sink deep into her back, the color and texture off-setting her normal smooth, sun-kissed skin.

I grow angrier by the second as my hands explore the surface that feels rough and rigged against my fingers. She's trying to stay still but she squirms underneath my appraisal, the strong mask she's put up slipping by the second.

After a few seconds, she pulls her shirt back down and looks at me with a vulnerability that squeezes my heart, "Never take your mother for granted, okay?"

I nod at her request while imagining what she must have gone through and picturing my own mother in her place. The thought makes my blood boil until I feel her eyes on me and at that a sudden calm washes over me. I didn't have a right to be upset in this moment, because I could never fully understand what she had went through. So instead of peppering her with false reassurance and trying to relate to her, I simply listen.

"A strange man burst through the door. The Desert Wolf had her hands around my throat and was about to slash through it when he attacked her and pulled her off. He yelled at me to run and so I did. I went out to the woods behind my house and that was when I shifted for the first time. I don't know how long I was out there or how many days I stayed that way but eventually the man found me and helped me change back to my human form. He told me he was my biological father. It was late at night when he brought me back home and police sirens could be heard near my home. I pushed through the crowd with my bio-father following behind me. And with all of this going on, investigators collecting evidence and marking off the house with caution tape, I found my dad sitting on the porch with his head in his hands as he cried. Things were never really the same after that."

Malia stops talking and the air grows thick once the atmosphere settles and the chilling end to her story settles with it.

"It wasn't your fault, you know."

Her voice remains clipped and emotionless,"If there's one thing in this world that I'm absolutely sure of, it's that what happened to them was most definitely my fault." She asserts. "I just really want to go back to sleep."

"Okay." I acknowledge, moving off her bed to give her some space, "Let me know if you need anything. I don't care what time it is or if I'm sleeping, just wake me up."

She offers me a appreciative nod, "Thanks Scott."

I get back in bed and pull the covers over me thinking about all that she had told me. I pretend to be asleep until I know that she is okay, listening to the rhythmic rise and fall of her chest as she breathes. At some point around 5 am, I finally close my eyes and try to fall back asleep but I don't get much anyways, waking up frequently throughout the night to check on her.

I'm in way over my head.

MALIA POV:

The next morning runs anything but smoothly.

I wake to the sound of my alarm clock going off and I grumble into my pillow, reaching blindly for the snooze button on the alarm. The smell of black coffee, bacon, and eggs kiss my nose as I raise from the bed and fix my sheets. Scott's bed is already made and I can hear his heavy footsteps moving around outside of the bed room. I move to the bay window and open it wide, breathing in the early morning dew and slight chill that scratches at my skin. The early morning paints a lilac sky and a world of color, exuberant boys and girls anxiously making their way around campus.

Scott and I both have our respective practices on the track and field at 8 o'clock, so I change into a different pair of track shorts, a sports bra and loose-fitted tank top, and my Nike tennis shoes. I grab my iPod and earphones, scrolling down the list until I come upon Partition by Beyonce. I dance around the room swaying my hips sensually to the beat of the music and my shorts ride up a little on my ass as a result. My eyes are closed and my inhibitions are gone as I bust out the lyrics at the top of my lungs, forgetting that Scott is in the dorm, too.

I turn and jump in surprise as Scott stands leaning against the door watching me with amusement dancing across his eyes, "No please, don't stop on my account." He says, trying and failing to contain his laughter, "You know if nursing doesn't work out for you, you could make a career in dancing." He teases, a boyish grin making his dimples even more pronounced as he openly stares at my ass with a smirk.

I take off my earphones and roll my eyes at him, "Ha ha very funny, I know when I'm being made fun of." I giggle, arching my brow, "And quit staring at my ass, McCall." I throw out with a playful glare, adding an extra sway to my hips as I near him.

"I wasn't staring," He denies loosely, "And you can't reprimand me for noticing it and then do that." He expresses, gesturing to my dancing form.

I tip toe up to to where he stands with him having a few inches on me and raise my chin to meet him, "And why not?"

He wears a goofy smile and he looks down at me and taps me nose with his index finger, "Because other guys will get the wrong idea thinking they can look and then I'll have to swoop in and defend your honor. Hypothetically speaking, of course." He banters, a flirty glint in his earthy brown eyes. I know it's all harmless fun, but the thought of Scott getting territorial over me instantly makes my nipples hard.

If he notices, he is gentlemanly enough to not say anything.

We're close at this point and I just noticed that he's wearing a black wife-beater with his smooth, tan muscles on display. One arm flexes as he leans on the door and the contour of his abs against the fabric makes my mouth begin to salivate.

He looks at me like he knows what I'm thinking, most likely smelling my arousal as his eyes avert to my throbbing, erect nipples visible through my tank top that seem to harden even more on command. His musky, sandalwood smell mixes with my own feminine scent. The moment is so quiet but our bodies are communicating signals so loud, I could cut the tension with a knife. I peer at his lips and then back at his eyes, a hungry look there that tells me that I'm the snack and he'd love to devour every inch of me if I'd let him. His eyes flick down to my lips as well and all that's heard is our mangled, heavy breathing. My lips part in anticipation, waiting for the moment to come to a climax, but then I remember who we are to each other and what we are about to do and I take a step back, putting distance between us until I don't get the feeling that I'm about to do something that I'll regret. We're crossing boundaries that walk a dangerous line, and if that's not enough, the urge to jump his bones and ride him until I can't remember my own name still lingers in the back of my brain.

Scott's eyes leave scorching trails of fire down my skin and my stomach does flips and my skin tingles.

My voice cracks when I speak, "I'm- I'm going to go get some of th-that coffee while it's still hot."

"Malia, I-" He begins,

I cut him off before he can bring up what just happened because this is a conversation I sure as hell am not ready for, "Do you want a cup of coffee, too? I'll just go make us a couple mugs. Any sugars, creams-"

"Malia," He repeats a little louder this time, grabbing both of my wrists and halting my spiel. I avert my eyes so that I'm not looking at him but his gaze beckons me to meet his. I rise to the challenge and look at him, a schooled- unreadable expression on my face.

His eyes show only concern, "Are you okay? You know, after last night. I didn't bring it up immediately because I didn't want to overwhelm you, but- I'm worried about you."

"I'm fine." I say without conscious thought. Being fine has become an integral part of who I am at this point. The automatic answer is always 'I'm fine' because what other choice do I have then to be?

I put my earphones back in place and turn up the volume full blast to block out any and all sounds. He makes a move to leave and out of the corner of my eye I see his mouth move to say something, but my music drowns it out. I shrug it off and go to the kitchen for that coffee.

I pour some out and caress the steaming mug between my hands while blowing on it. I take small sips, careful not to burn my eager mouth that couldn't wait those few minutes for it to cool down. I lean against the island, my foot tapping against the ground as I chew on my finger nails. I think about Scott and how I already feel like this plan of hiding our living situation is not going to work.

I grab my draw string bag, a timer, and a bottle of water and high-tail it out of the room when I hear the water running. I figured after the almost porno we made in there it would probably be best if I left before he gets out. I don't need a repeat performance of what just transpired, my libido can only take so much flirting and foreplay.

I walk out of the room and am just about to pass a door a few down from my own when Stiles exits the room and bumps into me. "Hey werecoyote, where are you off to?"

I smirk at his nickname, "I have track practice down at the field. I think we're next to you guys." I say, gesturing to his lacrosse gear that drags down the hallways.

He looks behind me at my door, "Where's Scott?"

I decide to play it coy, "I think he was taking a quick shower before practice. We didn't get a chance to shower last night and I think he was nervous about impressing the coach to make team captain which he wouldn't do if he smelled like booze."

Stiles quirks a brow, "Y'all didn't get a chance to shower?" He asks amused.

I swat him on the arm and he yelps, "I meant separately, you idiot." I chuckle, "Neither of us got to shower last night after everyone left. It was really late and we both knew we had to get up early so there's that."

He take s whiff of my hair, "I can tell, you stink." He jokes, scrunching up his nose in distaste.

I look at him mildly offended, "Fuck off, Stilinski." I gasp, giving him a swat on the same spot as before.

He flinches away from me, "You're so violent, woman. I'm just messing with you."

I glare at him playfully and shrug smirking, "Guys usually like that I'm a little rough."

Stiles shakes his head, "Remind me to never ask about what you and Scott get up to in that cozy apartment all alone. All the testosterone and estrogen building up has to come boiling over at some point."

"We're not freaking animals, Stiles-"

He interrupts, "Actually, you are-"

I cut him off, "Are you always like this?" I question, exasperated.

"Like what?"

I reply, "A smart ass."

He scratches his head, "If my track record for pissing people off is any indication, than yes. As the only human, sarcasm is my only defense mechanism so I have to exercise it to keep it ready and alert."

"You're ridiculous." I bait.

By this time we're at the edge of the track and field.

"Catch ya later, werecoyote." He sasses, tripping over a rock which I of course make fun of him for.

"Try not to trip on a lady bug too while you're out on the field. I hear they're very out and about this time of year." I grin and wink which he answers with an eye roll.

I can't keep the grin off my face as I walk down to meet my coach and the rest of the team. I get closer and I see the girl Fiona that Scott pointed out at the party. She looks me over when I approach like she's sizing me up and I return the favor, not one to be intimidated by other girls but also not one to be catty either.

Coach Phillips quiets everyone down and begins speaking, "Alright ladies, we're going to get in a warm up mile to get your legs going. I don't want you to sprint the thing but I want it to be faster than a jog. Everyone get on the line and wait for my whistle."

I catch a glimpse of Scott running over to the field where he meets Stiles in a bro-hug. I kind of chuckle at that, they're such cute friends.

"Ready, set, go!" Coach Phillips blows his whistle.

I take off on an a fast-paced run, the white noise of the outside world fading off like falling asleep to rain pattering against your window. My thighs strain and stretch as I push myself faster, getting lost with the wind in my face and the slight morning dew catching my ankles as I keep moving. I always felt at ease running. The high it brings me is unlike any other feeling I've ever encountered.

I breeze through my first two laps in record time, seeing the impressed look on coach's face with I lap a few of the girls which results in a few side-eyes and bitchy scowls as I pass them up. I shake it off and keep going, it isn't my fault those girls are slow?

I'm coming up on the long side of the track and I look over at the lacrosse practice going on. My steps begin to falter when I see that they're playing shirts or skins.

The sun hits Scott just right as he charges an opposing teammate, his thigh muscles and shirtless physique flexing and dripping with sweat like it's happening in slow motion. My legs go limp and I swear my pussy clenches on sight. He looks over like he's read my mind, taking in my toned legs and my near-translucent white tank top that's drenched in sweat. He catches me openly gawking at him and he smirks knowingly, giving me an appreciative once over.

I keep running but my eyes are on him, my movements feeling slow and distant. My foot catches on a small dip in the turf, causing me to trip and fall on my ass.

Wow, I am so embarrassing.

I look up to see who all saw me. Most people are distracted, but Scott's disarming dimples make an appearance as he hunches bent over his knees laughing at me.

When he's done wiping the tears from his eyes due to his laughing, he rushes over from the field and onto the track, helping me to my feet.

His little grin stays in place, "Have a little accident?"

I huff, "You know very well what you were doing. You're all hot and sweaty and shirtless and I'm only human.. sort of, so sue me, McCall." I chuckle at myself, still a little embarrassed that I actually fell for him. Can you believe that? That was so not part of the plan. "I told you last night that you are a good distraction, did I?"

He brushes off the dirt on the sides of my shorts, his fingers unintentionally catching the skin lying there. He quickly removes his hand, "That you did, Tate." He beams. He leans into my ear, "If it makes you feel any better, I think it was sexy as hell that you were watching me." He whispers, his breath tickling my neck, "I've got to get back to practice."

Without another word, Scott races back over to the boys before I can respond. They give him shit and tease him about racing over to help me. I finish my last lap and the rest of practice goes by in a blur. It looks like lacrosse is finishing up as well.

Fiona catches up to me as I'm starting to leave, "Hey Malia, you we're pretty great out there. Most freshman take a lot of training to get that good at the mile." She praises, giving me a friendly smile.

I smile back surprised at how nice she is being, "Thanks, my dad used to take me up to the track a lot and time me. If I broke our goal for that day he would take me to get breakfast or something afterwards," I share.

Scott just finished up and he looks my way.

Fiona catches the exchange, "Is Scott your boyfriend?"

I shake my head, "No, we're just friends." I say coolly.

She gives me a look of disbelief, "Friends don't look at friends that way, Malia."

I shrug off her comment, "Well we are, just friends. Are you interested in him?"

She smirks, "I know a hot guy when I see one," She presses, bumping my shoulder, "And a hot girl." She says offhandedly, her smirk deepening.

I look at her shocked before I compose my expression, "You should go for him. He's single, but I don't know if he's looking. I guess you'll have to ask him." I suggest, watching her bite her lip when she looks over at him.

"I might take you up on that." She says, throwing her bag over her shoulder, "I'll catch you later."

I stroll over to Scott and he looks at me like he's waiting for me to speak.

When I don't give in he hounds me, "What was that about?"

I narrow my eyes at him and purse my lips, "Don't pretend like you weren't listening." I throw back at him. We keep walking for a bit.

Stiles catches up to us and the three of us walk back the dorm together, Scott and I separating from him when he reach our rooms. We promise to meet up for lunch in the UC later.

We walk inside and I stop, "Crap, I forgot my bag back at the track. I'll be right back." I say, making a move for the door.

Scott nods, showing he acknowledged what I said and sheds his shirt that's covered in dirt and grass stains.

I go back and get my bag and return with my earphones in full blast, listening to my play list I have after I cool down from running. I walk back inside the dorm and call out for Scott, but he doesn't come out. I guess he stepped out for something.

I always have to pee after I run because of all the water I consume before and after I'm done. With some pep in my step, I hurry on over to the bathroom and swing the door open. What I see can never ever be unseen.

Scott stands stark naked under the shower head, his eyes closed and the water spraying his body and leaving every inch of him wet and slick for my eyes to behold. My gaze inevitably moves south and my eyes widen when I see his large, thick dick covered in suds and soapy water with his hand wrapped around his length as he strokes himself, brushing his thumb over the rounded, tip.

"Oh dear God," I whisper, humiliated and turned on at the same time.

He turns when he hears me and panics, "Malia, what are you doing in here-?!"He exclaims looking embarrassed as he tries and fails to cover himself.

I cover my eyes and move to leave, "I'm so sorry, I had my headphones in and didn't hear the shower running. I'll just go pee at Stiles', "I say, grabbing the knob, "I'm so so sorry, I thought the door would automatically cock- I mean lock." I trip on my words, mortified. "I'll be going now."

I don't wait for his reply, shutting the door behind me with a slam and press my back against it as I cover my mouth with my hand.

Did that really just happen?

Does it make me a slut for wanting to get on my knees and lick him like a lollipop?

What could one little taste of dick hurt, anyways?

I slap my forehead and raise my phone to call Kira and Theo.

Theo picks up on the first ring.

"Houston, we have a problem."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: The next chapter is going to be a monster like this one, but only if I get some good reviews so let me know if you like where the story is going!


	4. X & Y

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Hide" By Little May

MALIA POV:

Theo and Kira agree to meet me at the outdoor coffee stand that sits near the front lawn of the school. I can't help the jittery feeling that swims in my veins, the restlessness in my bones that fails to subside. I gnaw at my too-short finger nails; for a girl who walks around with claws half of the time, I really hate long nails. I tap my foot incessantly as I wait in line for my coffee. The guy in front of me takes a step back, bumping into me in the process without so much as a 'sorry'. I growl under my breath.

The duo finally arrive and join me in line, Theo looking cool and collected in his matte black Ray Bans and Kira rocking a new hair style with flirty, magenta strands complimenting her jet black locks. I take a piece between my hands and twirl it around my finger, "Cute and grungy, I like it."

Kira whips her hair over her shoulder and winks, "I thought it was time to leave my comfort zone and play around with it," She explains, "college provides a great opportunity to become someone else."

Theo throws his arm around her dainty shoulders, "Or discover who you've been all along." Bumping into her tiny frame, "I bet Lydia will like it." He smirks.

She gives a little coy smile, "I didn't even think about that."

My eyebrows raise at her, "I think you forget that we're walking lie-detectors."

Theo tacks on at the end, "We saw you blushing when Lydia kissed you on the cheek before we left Malia's place." His grey eyes twinkle, "You've got it bad."

Atypical discomfort shows through her features, "We barely know each other, besides I think Stiles has a thing for her, too." She admits like it's no big deal, but her eyes show a hint of hesitance with only a half-hearted smile as she tries to play it off. "For all I know, this could just be curiosity for her or a passing phase." She shrugs, going quiet.

I nudge her playfully, "You said at the party that you were sure that she's into you, what changed?"

Insecurity melts into her posture, "I say a lot of things." She says shortly, a tight-lipped smile at her disposal, "That doesn't mean I always know what I'm talking about."

Wrapping my arms around her waist, I lean my head on her shoulder, "Looks like we're both in a bit of a mess. I guess misery loves company." I smile weakly, giving her a squeeze. I release her small frame but her hand stays in mine as we move up in line to the front.

The guy who bumped into me before grabs his coffee and turns to leave but stops when he sees me, flashing what I assume was meant to be a charming smile, "Hi, I'm Parker. What's y-"

I fix him with an irritated scowl, "Not really in the mood today, sorry." I dismiss, grabbing my black coffee with two sugars off the stand and slapping my money down with a little more force than necessary.

Frat boy steps in my way offended, "You don't have to be a bitch."

I glower unimpressed, "Do you think you're going to offend me by calling me a bitch? Tell me something I don't know, genius. That word is hardly an insult nowadays."

He looks like he's about to say something else but I cut him off, "Today's been rough and I want to enjoy the rest of it with my friends. The last thing I need is some guy with a fetish for disrespecting women making my day even worse, so if you'll excuse me-"

My tongue-lashing to wannabe Donald Trump seems to have attracted a lot of attention, guys and girls crowding around to watch.

I hear a guy whisper to his friend, "That feminist shit is hot, man. She ripped that dude apart. I'd let her punch me in the face and say thank you." He laughs, grinning over at me and giving two thumbs up.

I hide my grin behind a cough,"He isn't bad looking," My inner-monologue insists, my eyes sweeping over his sandy blonde hair, green eyes, and olive complexion, "but he's no Scott McCall." It finishes for me. My eyes widen at where my thoughts have led.

When did Scott become my new standard?

Without thought, my mind replays the image I witnessed not even twenty minutes ago, the memory running rampant through my head on repeat. Tan, chiseled features come to the forefront. Every still is of Scott; slicked black hair, deep brown eyes closed in pleasure, and wet skin that slides against his rough hand as he jerked himself off cause me to bite my lip from thinking of it again. He had looked so good; powerful, damning, and sexy.

I shake myself from my thoughts. He'd been mortified which easily makes me feel guilty for thinking of him this way. I had joked about him masturbating before but I didn't think it would end with me actually witnessing it. How can I ever look at him again without blushing and instantly thinking about him in that way?

What's even worse than seeing him naked is wondering what or who he thought about as he got himself off. Phew, I am in some deep shit right now.

It seems coffee boy has been talking to me for a while now, "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" He huffs in frustration.

I roll my eyes and stare up at the guy who can't seem to take a hint, "What do you want?"

He smirks triumphantly, "Your name, sweetheart."

The words falls from my lips without a thought, "Bored. You're boring and wasting my time." I say with nonchalance, shoving him aside as I go find a spot on the lawn with a blanket to sit on with my lukewarm coffee in hand.

Theo and Kira grab their latte and hot chocolate and come trailing behind me. Theo gives the guy left gawking a friendly squeeze on the shoulder, "You never stood a chance, man." Snickering, he walks over to Kira and I.

I pull out the woolen blanket tucked underneath my arm and spread it out on the ground beneath the shade of a tree. It's a beautiful day outside so I decided to change before I rushed out of the dorm. I went for a more relaxed look with my favorite pair of tattered shorts, a soft red and green flannel, and my scuffed brown hiking boots. My hair hangs in a lose braid with minimal amounts of makeup.

We sit in a comfortable quiet for a few minutes until Theo decides to rip the bandage off.

"You called me like you had just witnessed the assassination of John F. Kennedy" Theo begins dramatically while removing his Ray Bans, "What's got you all worked up? You're never this antsy."

I look at him pitifully with my hands pulling at the roots of my hair, "I saw something."

Kira leans into me, "Sounds ominous, go on." She says mockingly.

I open my mouth to speak but think better of it, trying to decide what was the best way to tell them without coming off as a creepy, peeping tom.

They stare at me with bated breath, waiting for me to say something.

Kira groans, "Just spit it out already, Malia. It can't be that bad." She says, narrowing her eyes at my pitiful expression and lowers her voice, "You didn't kill someone, did you? I mean if you did we'll help you hide the body but we have to know who it is." She whispers glibly like we're merely talking about a Sunday stroll through the park.

The ridiculousness of the situation causes a nervous chuckle to fall from my mouth until it turns into uncontrollable, tear-inducing laughter. A few bystanders look at me like I've just about lost my last damn marble and Kira and Theo aren't too far off.

I finally calm down, a small giggle leading to hiccups that silences a couple minutes later. "I walked in on Scott in the shower jerking off and kind of just stood there," I get out all in one breath, "He was embarrassed and I was embarrassed and-" I slap my forehead, "I just kept apologizing and left."

Theo howls in laughter and I even crack a smile of my own. Looking back at it now, it was kind of funny.

Kira has tears streaming down her face, "Well did you at least get a little taste?" She questions tactlessly wiggling her eyebrows, "Scott looks like he's packin' down there and I bet your lady bits were in shambles."

My cheeks erupt in color, "Lets just say that his Alpha status is superior in all categories."

Theo takes a sip of his latte, "I'd pay to see that."

Speak of the Devil and he shall appear.

Coming down the side walk a little ways back is Scott, Stiles, and Liam with books and backpacks in hand. With my perfect vision, I spot them through the throngs of people.

I avert my eyes quickly, but Stiles catches me through the crowd before I can make myself inconspicuous.

Theo smirks lazily at Liam who appears oblivious and relaxed until he picks up on the feeling of being watched and looks up to see a grinning Theo. Liam quickly drops his eyes nervously and stumbles over his feet, almost falling into a hole in the ground marked off by construction. Theo's smirk widens at the display, getting off on how much his presence affects the other boy. He chances a glance over at Scott who still hasn't noticed us yet and licks his lips, "I just want to grab that stallion by the horns and ride him until I can't see straight." He articulates smoothly with a hint of enthusiasm as he scans his body.

Kira decides to antagonize him a little bit, "Which one?" She smirks suggestively, catching onto his peaking interest in Liam even though she's aware he's talking about Scott.

I roll my eyes with a chuckle.

Theo continues on like he was never even interrupted, "I officially take back what I said about you having tragic taste in men, Malia. That guy-" He pauses with a mischievous side eye over in Scott's direction, "is a man. A man that can take that pussy of yours places that it's never been before. And by that I mean your G-spot."

I guffaw at his reply, punching him in the shoulder. "Just because I didn't have boyfriends growing up doesn't mean I didn't have distractions, Theo. I found ways to get myself off." I snark.

He looks at me disapprovingly, "I meant in ways that don't involve your own fingers, Doll." Smirking at my growl he keeps it coming, "I know that you are experienced, obviously. I've seen you make guys cum with just a look, but what I'm saying is that Scott is just what you need in your life. Don't you remember what good sex is like?"

I move to lay on my stomach, fetching my pair of sunglasses from my bag and pulling them over my eyes, "I've been doing just fine on my own, thank you very much."

Stiles leans over to Scott as they get closer and whispers something in his ear while looking over at us.

Theo's cool grey eyes fill with determination when he catches Liam sneaking a glance at him through his lashes, "I'm going to invite them over."

Being caught off guard I try to keep my voice low, "What the hell, Theo. Did you not hear anything I said the last ten minutes? You can't invite them over, it's going to be so awkward." I argue stubbornly.

Satisfaction colors his tone, "Too late, it looks liked we've already been spotted." He points out happily, "They're coming over here."

I duck my head when I hear the crunching of leaves, taking a sudden interest in a dirt stain on my boot. When I realize I can't avoid him any longer, I look up to Scott standing in front of me with a hopeful look in his soft brown eyes. I manage a tiny smile in return.

With the obvious height difference with me being on the ground looking up at him, my eyes immediately go to his groin area that's only a couple inches above my face. My cheeks go red and I gulp audibly before I move my imploring gaze back up to meet his.

He seems to realize what position we're in and corrects himself with a tinge of blush on his cheeks, squatting down and taking a seat on the blanket. Liam and Stiles follow suit.

"Hey" He mumbles nervously.

"Hey"

Liam nudges Theo's shoulder and motions with him to follow him as he gets to his feet. "We're going to go to the bathroom." Liam says in explanation.

Stiles cocks a brow, "Since when do guys go to the bathroom together?" A sly, unassuming smile hidden in the corner of his lips.

Liam jabs back at him, "Don't you and Scott do everything together?"

Stiles doesn't miss a beat, "We use to pee in the sandbox together, what's your excuse?" He murmurs wittily, surveying Liam for any facial cues or discrepancies.

Theo saves him from further embarrassment, "Liam told me that he has an unfortunate habit of falling into holes, I don't mind being on baby sitting duty." He shrugs ruffling Liam's hair which the other boy swats away, "Besides we both have Photography class next period and I have no idea where that is. Liam and I can figure it out together."

Without another word, the two saunter off in a direction of the nearest bathroom.

SCOTT POV:

I take a seat on the blanket with my shoulder grazing Malia's, "Hey" I start of with a shy smile. Her skin feels smooth, the warmth of her arm bleeding through my clothes and makes me feel a little more at ease.

"Hey" She says, returning a similar smile of her own.

Liam and Theo excuse themselves. I doubt we'll see them again for a while, if at all.

Shaking off my nerves, I realize that the conversation we're bound to have is inevitable, but I don't want it to be here. I told Stiles what happened and he assured me that it was fine and that everything would go back to normal in a couple days. I stare at her side-profile when she speaks, her plump pink lips becoming my new fixation.

When she ran out of the bathroom earlier I didn't know what to do. I changed the temperature to cold and stood underneath the shower head with my forehead pressed against the cool tile. Embarrassment kept me in the shower for a few minutes longer as I was scared to face her, not necessarily because she had seen my junk but because it was the memory of her that morning with her taunt body and hardened nipples swimming around in my head as I worked myself up. And then I had seen her watching me at practice with desire falling from her in waves and her body slick with sweat. My wolf had purred at the sight. So there I had stood in the shower, the image of her burned into my brain with no intention of leaving. Taking the opportunity of her absence, I rubbed myself out with the promise of it being a one time thing. I was so close to finishing when she had come bursting through the door, my walking fantasy in the flesh and looking at me stroking myself with a hooded eyes and raging arousal that caused my dick to twitch in my hands.

I break out of my thoughts when I feel Malia's hand on my shoulder.

"Earth to Scott-" She giggles, moving her hand in front of my face, "Stiles asked you a question."

Shaking my head, I turn to Stiles, "Sorry, I just had something on my mind."

I feel Malia tense beside me. I grab her hand beneath the comfort of the blanket and give it a little squeeze. She immediately relaxes and doesn't move away immediately. Her thumb grazes my knuckles and a small shiver shoots up my arm.

Stiles smirks knowingly, "I was asking if you guys wanted to meet up with the girls in the UC for lunch, Lydia and Allison are on their way there."

Kira perks up at the mention of the banshee, "I could do some lunch."

Malia looks at me expectantly and I shrug, "Sure, that sounds good. I haven't eaten since this morning, we should probably wait for Liam and Theo though."

Kira and Stiles wear matching grins and Stiles speaks up, "I guess they decided just to go straight to class."

Malia and Kira look like a cat that caught the canary but don't seem like their willing to give up any information anytime soon.

I help Malia to her feet and Stiles does the same with Kira. I shoot a quick text to Liam so he'll know where we're at and told him to meet us.

We walk to the UC and are there within minutes.

Allison leans over a pool table that's in the same vicinity of the group.

Her forehead scrunches in concentration and her lips pucker. Noticing Allison was easy, at one point all I saw was her. Even now, she's a ghost that haunts me sometimes, our past never far from my thoughts. Out of sight, out of mind is a good way to describe it. My heart still beats a little faster when I'm around her and sometimes it feels like the sweetest torture to remember what it was like to be loved by a girl like her.

I still watch her from a far in a muted sense of longing, kind of when you miss something but you don't necessarily want it back either. I don't know, Allison is a anomaly of her own that I still can't seem to come to terms with.

Isaac hovers over her shoulder when she misses the ball and a small laugh escapes her. He smiles at her, exuding a certain charm and cavalier that Isaac always seemed to pull off with his boyish looks, trench coats, and expensive looking scarves. She looks at him the same way she used to look at me.

My hands clench in fists at the sight of them pressed up against each other as he offers to help her maneuver her pool stick on the second try. I can feel the jealousy hot against the back of my neck and a wave of anger flow through me. How long has this been going on? Have I been blind to them for a while now?

I think back to high school, just after Allison and I had broken up for the final time. Her and Isaac seemed to get closer than, finishing each other's sentences and always hanging around each other when they'd walk to class. Irritation clouds my brain even if I realize how ridiculous I'm being.

I feel a warm hand on my wrist, "Scott-" Malia says to get my attention. I meet her eyes and she sees something there that causes hers to soften. Looking over in their direction, she moves her gaze back to me, "It's okay to be upset." She says, reading me easily while rubbing the small of my back. She stops after a moment and runs her fingers through her hair and places them back at her sides. I almost ask her not to stop, feeling my anger diminish at her gentle touch.

My arm circles around her waist and I pull her against my side, her hair brushing my nose as I inhale her honey and vanilla scent, "I just don't know how to shut my emotions off. Part of me wants to be mad at her for moving on when I haven't, but then the other part wishes her the best."

Her brown eyes show understanding, "Why don't you tell her how you feel?"

"We aren't those people anymore." I know that now, Allison would always be a fond memory, but that part of my life is over for us, at least romantically.

Even if I don't want to acknowledge it, things are shifting between Malia and I. I don't really know what to call it because it's way too early to tell. She seems to pick up on my emotions, when I'm in my head and when I'm not, when I don't want to talk, and when I do. Only knowing each other for a couple days, I feel a foundation forming, one that could easily turn into a great friendship. That's if I could only stop thinking about her in other ways as well.

Messy hair and almost bare skin, Malia still manages to take my breath away. It's hard not to see her, the casual sway of her hips, the flex of her strong toned legs when she runs, and the carefree smile that sits so easily on her face. I find myself finding little things about her as the days have gone, today it's the cute splatter of freckles on her nose usually concealed by makeup.

Curiosity bleeds into her tone, "Who do you want to be now?"

I think about it and then the information presents itself, "A tattoo artist." I say easily, it's always been my dream.

Her eyes widen, "You continue to surprise me, McCall. I never would of guessed that. What's your major?"

"Art" I smirk cheekily. I already have a tattooing license but I come here mostly to appease my parents. I thought about doing something like Philosophy just to piss my dad off, because what can you actually do with that type of degree?" I chuckle lowly. "But I know my mom always dreamed of me going to college, so this is mostly for her. I take classes for more practice and technique, and I work three times a week at the shop."

Malia's lips pull back in a dimpled grin, "So you are a tattoo artist, play lacrosse, and fight supernatural creatures by night." She states, propping her hand on her hip and arches a sassy brow, "Dominant, sporty, and artistic?" Her eyes roam over me appreciatively before they meet mine again. "Is there anything you can't do?"

I tease back with a smirk of my own, "I like to get my hands dirty." I murmur not meaning for that to come off suggestive, but the air thickens when she wets her lips and my eyes follow like a moth to a flame. Her face seems to heat up as my gaze lingers there.

Hers shift up to mine with a flash of intrigue. She looks like she's about to say something but thinks better of it, "Lunch presents the perfect opportunity for that. Shall we?" She beckons towards the table with one last lingering glance.

My phone vibrates in my pocket and I see a text from Liam, "Got class. Won't make it to lunch. See u later." -Liam

I take a seat across from Stiles and Malia takes the open seat next to him. Lydia, Allison, Kira, and Isaac join us.

Ally nudges Malia's shoulder, "Lydia, Erica, and I are going to this all-female screening of Wonder Woman tonight. The school is hosting it in the Student Union, it's a all-nighter type thing. You and Kira should come."

Stiles inserts himself into the conversation, "So is this like a…sleepover?" He grins goofily, "I've always wanted to know what girl's pillow fights are really like."

Malia sucks on her lollipop seductively, "It usually starts off with bedroom eyes and then progresses into kissing each other. At that point were in our lingerie." She teases, "But I'm a little more abrasive, so I always advocate for being naked." She smirks wolfishly, her tongue circling around the head of the sucker.

My eyes follow the trail of her tongue and I shift in my seat to accommodate my growing erection. Noticing my discomfort, she subtly looks at me from across the table and winks at me. I blow out the puff of air I'd been holding and her eyes shift down to my lap as she take another lazy lick at her lollipop. My dick jumps at her attention. Having mercy on me, she breaks eye contact and turns back to Stiles who's in a heated conversation with the other girls.

Kira nods her head, casting a wink at Lydia, "Girls are very sexual beings." She says licking her lips to tease him further.

Lydia reapplies her pink lipstick, "And our pillow fights usually end in sex." She plays along, sending come hither eyes to Stiles which makes him melt into a puddle of goo at her feet.

Allison leans into Malia, "Her and I already have some practice." Allison chuckles good-naturedly followed by Malia, the girls reminiscing over the party last night.

My dimples appear, "I was a witness to this." I jab at them and Malia giggles at the memory.

She pipes in, "One of the guys we were playing with was a total douche so I had to rise to the challenge. I couldn't let him have the satisfaction of seeing me chickening out." She begins before motioning to me, "Scott came to my honor when another idiot grabbed my ass. I'm an devout feminist and easily could of handled that guy myself, but Scott was sweet enough to do the job for me." She chuckles with a fake glare, "Just don't do it again, McCall. I can take care of myself."

"I have to remind him of that all the time." Allison murmurs with a slight eyebrow raise, a hint of bitterness in her tone.

I hold up my hands in surrender.

Stiles honey eyes twinkle with mischief as he turns back to Malia, "Sure Tate, we get it, you think Allison is hot. We all do." He peers at Allison, "I mean that in a completely unobjectifying type of way, Ally Cat." He adds as an afterthought. Turning back to Malia he continues, "I've gathered that you're a bit of a wild card, will you and Allison be sharing a sleeping bag together?" He asks, looking between the two girls tauntingly.

If I'm being honest, I'm a little interested, too.

Allison shrugs coolly, "Maybe we are, maybe we aren't. But it's an all-female showing, meaning you won't be attending. I guess you'll just have to imagine which way things played out." She continues to bait a narrow-eyed Stiles who's searching for a witty retort. The two compete in a stare-off until Stiles finally shrivels underneath the weight of Allison's dark brown eyes. She sticks her tongue out at him in victory and Stiles just rolls his eyes.

Malia chuckles, "I love cuddling as much as the next girl, but I'm partial to men. Are you offering, Stilinski?" She wiggles her eyebrows exaggeratedly with a wink.

Stiles innocently flirts back, "Are you asking me on a date, werecoyote?"

Malia engagingly leans into him with her chin resting on her palm, "Should I not have?"

I look between the both of them with a hint of confusion, before the feeling of being left out settles into my stomach.

Stiles replies, "I figured you were on the prowl for a supernatural equal but if you're looking for lanky, human, and clumsy, I'm your guy." He mocks, "I'm also served with a side of sarcasm but I'm sure you can keep up." He presses jokingly while throwing a fry at her.

Malia catches it easily in her mouth, "Mmm those are really good." She moans, reaching for the rest of his fries as he swats her hand and shoos her away.

"Come on, Stiles." She groans, "I thought we were on the verge of becoming friends."

He laughs while stuffing a handful of fries in his mouth, ignoring her growl of disapproval, "It's progress, baby, progress."

Lydia pokes her head around Kira, "Stiles why are you being an ass, give the girl some damn fries." She demands, casting a glance at Malia with a friendly smile, "Girls have to stick together."

Malia nods appreciatively and grins back at Stiles, "You heard Lydia, gimme some fries."

Stiles balks, "She doesn't own me."

Lydia raises a challenging, strawberry blonde brow, "Hey Stiles, where's your wallet?" She asks pointedly with an healthy dose of attitude.

He looks confused before he shuffles around searching under the table, his pant pockets, and his jacket. He mumbles, "Shit."

Lydia's sea-green eyes fill with evil glee when she reaches into her purse and pulls out a leather-bound, brown wallet. "You we're saying?" She confronts, her tinkling voice coming out a little sharper.

"Damn," Kira howls with laughter, "You have his balls in there, too?" She proposes, pretending to search through her bag.

Lydia's pink lips pull into a grin, "Nope, ball-busting Stiles wasn't on my agenda today."

Stiles narrows his eyes and puckers his lips in agitation, "Is it just 'make fun of Stiles' day?"

Malia chooses this moment to jump in while playing coy, "I thought that was every day."

I decide to rescue him from the female onslaught, "I'm here for you, man, these girls are vicious. It's best just to nod and go along with whatever they're saying."

Isaac chooses this moment to put down the book he had been reading to actually join the conversation, "Girls like it when you're attentive," He says, casting an indiscreet glance at Allison who blushes under his attention. "If you do what Scott says, you'll end up falling into the category of a careless asshole." He snarks with a hint of amusement in his eyes. I know that he's joking, Isaac and I have always been tight ever since my mom and I took him underneath our wing and gave him a home after his falling out with Derek. I've never really took anything he says to heart, but I can't help but wonder if that was suppose to be a barb at me because of his interest in Allison.

In high school, I was known for being a little bit of a slacker. With my roguish appearance, miscellaneous priorities, and a knack for unintentionally coming off as a little bit of an ass to girls who weren't my mom or my immediate friend group, it's been said that my personality can be an acquired taste.

Between the times Allison and I would break up and I thought that I was ready to move on from her, I fell into periods of time where I simply didn't give a fuck. I had sex with girls when and how I wanted and they went along with it. They seemed to love the angst-ridden, dominant, loner types until they realize that they want more than that. I would tell them upfront what I expected and that I wasn't looking for anything more than a good time and each girl seemed to understand. But then came pillow talk, asking me to stay over, and the topic of meeting parents, and I immediately took on a detached demeanor. My goal for this year is to be better: a better friend, a better Alpha, and a better person over all.

I'd somewhat confided in Malia about my desire to be better at the party the other night. Allison can't be that reason anymore. No one should have that much power over you, consciously or not. I haven't slept with anyone since our break up, but I'd be lying if I said the familiar need to feel close to another person, even if only through sex, is fleeting.

My mom raised me to be a gentleman and I'm trying to get back to that. It started with Malia and progressed to Fiona, circling back around to Malia again. She's a woman in every since of the word and deserves, hell, demands that respect. Her fire and tenacity only makes me respect her even more and she has proved to be able to pull at my shy, softer side, something that hasn't been accomplished since Allison. With that in mind, I choose not to read into it too far, the last thing I need is to make our minuscule olive branch for this roommate thing messy and complicated. Malia has the wits and the looks, a killer smile, and an even deadlier bite. And it hasn't escaped my notice that her eyes are blue. I know what that means; she's killed someone, that much is obvious. It's just figuring out the right time to ask about it that is the nuclear bomb of what could either do a lot of good or a lot of harm. She hasn't been very forthcoming about her living family, but I figure she'll tell me about it when she trusts me.

I've just about zoned out of the conversation at this point and want to run back to my room and get in some drawing before I go in to work. I get my greatest relief hidden away in the stuffy, little tattoo shop. Besides, anything is better than witnessing my ex-girlfriend falling into the arms of one of my dearest friends and the mild concern from the girl who's blossoming friendship has been the one good thing about college so far.

Isaac keeps on talking while making heart eyes at a swooning Allison and my eyes roll on their own accord. Malia looks over at me to take in my reaction. She mouths across the table for me to breathe and I do, but I can't get rid of the bad taste in my mouth. I send her a grateful look when I ease myself out of my funk.

I stand abruptly, an unreadable mask taking over my features. I feel my crooked jaw clench and my mouth fall into a grim line, "I gotta go."

LIAM POV:

With all the prying eyes in the bathroom, I turn to Theo, "We can't talk here, there's too many people."

Theo shrugs, pushing his Ray Bans over his eyes, "I didn't realize you wanted alone time with me, pup. Just say the word and I'll have all these guys running for the hills."

I squirm beside him but feel a burst of confidence bubbling to the surface, "You don't seem all that big and bad. I bet you're all bark and no bite." I challenge.

He rests his blacked-out sunglasses on the bridge of his nose, flashing a pair of perfectly sculpted white teeth, "Wanna find out?" He murmurs with a hint of innuendo falling from his sinful lips.

I roll my eyes, "Forget it, we're going to be late for class. How did you even know we had the same one?"

A sliver of a smile appears on his handsome face, "I have my ways."

"You mean you're stalking me?" I goad, fixing him with a mild glare.

"Actually pup, your school schedule has been hanging out of your haphazardly organized bag ever since you met up with us on the lawn. You should really be more aware of your surroundings, things could just go flying out." He remarks with an equal amount of finesse and wit.

I growl at his easy rebuttal. "You can stop checking me out, by the way. I could feel you staring at me the whole way over here. Other people probably noticed."

He smirks while licking his lips, "I like what I see and I go for it. You could learn a thing or two from me."

"You know, you're real good at talking in circles and making others get off topic, but I'm onto you and I'm not playing your little game."

He arches a brow at the new information, "So you've noticed me then."

"You're kind of hard to ignore, and I don't mean that as a compliment."

He looks at me perplexed, "I'll take it as a compliment, anyways."

I'm surprised the amount of times I've rolled my eyes in his presence hasn't given me whiplash already. "Lets just go to class, we'll probably end up getting there late and that just adds more attention to us. Maybe you can be useful and charm the teacher, Mr. James Dean. Your flirtatious nature has to be good for something." I joke, nudging him in the shoulder, well more like his side since he's a little taller than me.

Theo motions me forward, "Lead the way, kill-joy."

I give him a dirty look, "I'm not a kill-joy, I just don't enjoy being harassed but figure other people may find your knack for invading personal space appealing." I grumble, annoyed at the stupid, cute grin that constantly stays on his face whether I'm insulting him or cumming for him.

The latter of which will never happen again. Even if I was into guys, Theo is so not my type. He doesn't know the meaning of boundaries or tact. He's just an arrogant ass all wrapped up in a pretty package with the mouth of a god.

I mentally slap myself.

We're walking the long trek across campus to our class passing booths for different clubs and overexcited fraternities and sororities thrusting fliers for Rush Week. Girls and guys alike hand out a copy to anyone who passes.

Theo and I ease past the Greek Life with the same vigor of those annoying kiosks in the malls that pester you into buying something you know you never really needed in the first place.

Once we've gotten past the hard part, a small booth sits on the outskirts with kids around our age dressed up in rainbow attire, waving a similarly decorated flag above them. A sweet-eyed girl calls us over, her sugary goodness being too nice to rudely shrug off. Theo and I walk over and my cheeks immediately flush pink as nervousness takes over.

The girl's name tag reads 'Nora' and she smiles widely when we step up to the booth.

She greets, "Hi, I'm Nora and I'm the president of the LGBT club here on campus. We aim to show support, love, and care to all students on campus and work to make sure everyone feels like they have a place here at the university. We speak at some public events, attend some conferences and parades, and have a life-group that meets every Wednesday. Would you guys be interested in joining?"

Theo saves me from replying, "I have the utmost respect for activists like yourselves, but I'm more of a passive supporter." He says vaguely, but still giving the girl a friendly smile. "I would, however, love to donate to your cause." He offers, pulling out a one-hundred dollar bill from his pocket and handing it to the girl.

I think that's the first true genuine moment I've seen of him yet.

He pulls out a five dollar bill next, "I'd also like to buy one of those nifty gay pride flags for my boyfriend here," He smirks, throwing his arm over my shoulder as I try to reign in my shock, "He's a bit shy and is too afraid to ask for one."

Nora squeals with excitement, "Oh my god, yes! Wow, you're a good boyfriend helping your partner become more comfortable." She turns to me, "You're a lucky guy." She says honestly and I don't have the heart to refute her claim. She looks at us both with a look of pure contentment, "You two make a lovely couple."

Theo places his hand over hers and smiles again, "Thanks again for your help, Nora. I hope my donation will do a lot of good for your organization."

She pats him on the shoulder, "I'll make sure it goes to good use,-"

"Theo." He supplies with the bravado of an upstanding citizen, fooling all the students that surround the booth.

"We look forward to seeing you around, Theo." She beams.

"Like-wise but we should get going. This one hates being late to class." He says, pointing to me. I try to hide my grimace.

Nora waves goodbye as I fake smile, pulling Theo along by the sleeve of his leather jacket. With all the seriousness of the situation leaving my system once we're alone again, I surprise myself by laughing. It was kind of fun to be a different person for a moment, even if that was all made up. Feeling anxiety all the time gets exhausting after a while.

Theo is nice enough not to speak on what just happened so I call him out, "You're kind of an asshole." I acknowledge, no real malice behind my words.

He shrugs, "And you were kind of cool back there. I figured you'd blow our cover, considering I only really did it to get a rise out of you. You need to have your perfect feathers ruffled every once in a while, you're so uptight most of the time."

Thinking over what he said, we arrive at the right class.

Theo saunters inside with his usual bad boy swagger and all the girls in the room sigh like hopeless romantics, following his every move. It looks like a moment out of those cheesy, indie films where the outsider walks in the room and every single girl makes it their mission to fix him. It's kind of comical to say the least.

I sit in the spot next to him, it being the only other seat available. I get a few appreciative looks as well, but not with the same obnoxiousness that Theo did.

Annoyingly arrogant and crass to a fault, Theo still manages to be unimaginably handsome. Abysmal, grey eyes face the front of the room and I get a moment to really look at him. His ash brown hair looks soft and messy, a little bit swooping into his eyes which he easily brushes away. He's made up of pale skin, a prominent aristocratic nose, and stubble that collects at his sharp jaw. This only serves to add to his elusive appearance and the smell of nicotine and bad intentions falls from his leather jacket in waves like it's made for him. I turn away before he can catch me staring, but a small part of me wouldn't really mind if he did.

A thin woman with boxed-glasses and a messy head of hair walks through the door and writes her name on the board. I guess we weren't as late as we thought.

She faces the class, "I'm Ms. Osbourne and I will be your teacher for this coming semester. And yes, I did say Ms., as in my oaf of an ex-husband didn't understand the trials and tributes of my art so I divorced him." She looks at the females in the room with an exaggerated sigh of dismay, "Don't follow in my footsteps, dearies, heartbreak is inevitable, but it is the art of the soul. The best work comes from it. The best photographers make their mark on this world by capturing the truth behind the lives we lead, and that will bring me into discussing your class project. It will be a series of pictures that will be shot and developed by yourselves and your final portfolio will extend throughout the semester."

Her eccentric personality throws me off at first, never having a professor before with so many opinions and biases. Granted, this is only an elective for me, but maybe I could pick up a new hobby from this class.

Theo is thoroughly engrossed in her lecture, his eyes lighting up at the endless possibilities. His eyes swim with passion and I can tell that he's here because he loves this, something that I wouldn't of known unless I paid attention.

Ms. Osbourne keeps talking, "You will be working in pairs on this assignment. Find someone you like because you'll be stuck with them. That can either be a blessing or a curse."

My eyes shift to the different girls in the classroom, all of their eyes landing on Theo to see which one of them he would schmooze and ask to be his partner.

He lazily raises his hand as he waits to be called on.

Mrs. Osbourne gives him the okay to speak.

He smiles confidently, "I want Liam Dunbar to be my partner." He says, pointing to me for everyone to see. His teasing eyes meet mine as if daring me to draw attention to us by fighting back.

I remain cool and collected, shrugging my shoulders, "It's fine with me." I say.

I smirk at the small glimmer of surprise he wasn't able to hide fast enough.

She writes our names down on her list to finalize it and the collective sigh of twenty girls echo off the walls.

Theo chuckles beside me, "I hope you don't mind me taking the lead on this one, I thought it would be better in case something supernatural arises and we wouldn't have to make up an excuse for bailing."

I take his explanation in stride while realizing that it made sense, "Afraid I'd forget about you?" I tease back, an easy comfort falling off of me. I started to relax a little, knowing I had been a little hard on him lately. Maybe we could start over, forget everything that happened and be friends.

Theo leans back in his chair with his arms behind his head, "Lets not get ahead of ourselves, pup. I just have a few more tricks to teach you." He snickers to himself.

What have I gotten myself into?

MALIA POV:

I spend the rest of the day in class, having one elective with Allison and another with Erica. I don't get back to the room until later in the day, deciding earlier to go for a run after classes were over. I needed to blow off a little steam considering I haven't had any good sex in who even knows how long. Laying on my bed, I've changed into a comfortable pair of shorts and my dad's old UCLA sweatshirt that hangs off my shoulders. Now I have my Fundamentals of Nursing textbook sprawled across my bed with my first quiz being next week and a bottle of dark purple nail polish sitting on my desk as I paint my toe nails.

My earphones are in and 'I Caught Myself' by Paramore drifts through the ear piece. I hum along to the tune, my inner-teenage girl coming out with anything having to do with Hayley Williams. I take one earphone out when I think I hear the front door open. Scott comes lounging into the room with a sketchbook in one hand and a dirty rag in the other. Ink litters his usually smooth, perfect skin and he looks up when he enters.

"Hey Lia." He says, before stopping himself.

"Lia?" I ask, rolling the syllables off my tongue to see how it sounds.

Shaking his head, he apologizes, "Sorry, I don't know where that came from. I won't call you that again-"

I shush him with a penetrating glance, "Calm down McCall, I like it." I tease at his sheepish grin.

He explains himself, "It's just easier to say, I don't know why. It just slipped out, but if you like it than it's staying." He proclaims, throwing himself on his bed.

We sit in a comfortable silence for a bit but I can feel the weight of a pressing matter looming over our heads.

"Malia"

"Scott"

We look at each other and burst out laughing at the way we synchronized. I guess we both felt like it was time to talk about what happened earlier.

He motions for me to speak first so I take out my earphones and close my book. I turn to him and see him waiting, "I'm sorry about walking in on you earlier. I had my earphones in" I say, picking up the white earpieces, "I didn't hear the shower running."

He nods, "It's okay, I was just taken by surprise. No harm no foul. Besides, I think your embarrassment is punishment enough. You were literally the color of a tomato." He chuckles with those devilish dimples, his face lighting up at my expense.

I move to lay on my stomach with my chin propped between my hands, "I totally got spooked by your penis, Scott." I joke, slightly mortified, the image of him swimming around in my brain. I look at him with a cheeky grin, "You're fucking huge." I say unabashedly.

His manhood swells with pride and he lets out a deep, vibrating laugh, "You kind of had a staring match with my dick, Lia."

My cheeks flush and I crack a tiny smile, "I kinda did."

A comfortable silence falls over us again, the room feeling a little more light.

He yawns from across the room and moves under his covers, "I think I'm going to take a nap."

"You have ink and grim all over you, aren't you going to take a shower?"

"Nope." He says, popping the 'p' as he closes his eyes.

I purse my lips in disgust and chunk a pillow at him, "Go rinse off, Stinky butt. I don't need our room smelling like you."

He feigns hurt, "You don't like the way I smell?"

I giggle at him, "Well you usually smell good, but right now you smell like ass." I say, throwing another pillow at him as he groans in protest.

He turns to face me, "Just for that, you're not getting these pillows back." He sasses, taking a whiff of the pillow case, "Damn, you smell good."

I smirk at his comment and mull that over in my head. Someone telling me I smell good, especially Scott, is definitely up there in the best compliments.

"I owe it all to soap and water. Now move it, McCall."

He groans into my pillow with a pout, "I'm not taking a shower."

I fix him with a playful glare and he rolls his eyes, "Fine, bossy. I'll go clean myself up."

I watch him move to the door, "You'll thank me for it later.

He sticks his head back into the room, "You're probably right."

"I'm going to head over to the Student Union in a bit for the Wonder Woman premiere. But I'll be back in the morning bright and early for practice."

He smiles, "Black coffee with two sugars, right?" He asks. It's kind of cute that he remembered, how thoughtful.

"Yes please." I whisper and he smiles back.

"See ya, Lia."

"Don't forget to wash behind your ears!"

His laughter reverberates off the walls.

Shaking my head in amusement, I put my book away and grab the essentials I'll need for tonight. Finding my small draw-string bag, I throw in a blanket, snacks, my tooth brush, and my 'fuck off' eye mask inspired by my one and only true love Fiona Gallagher. Stuffing my pillow beneath my arm, I throw on some comfy shoes and head out the door.

Walking through the dark has never been a fear of mine considering I'm scarier and deadlier than almost anything out there that could hurt me. A blanket of black paints the sky that makes the stretch of space seem like it goes on forever. I'm about five minutes away from the Student Union when I hear a rustling behind me. I figure it's just some students out late and ignore it, continuing on my way. The sound gets louder and I finally stop and turn towards a clump of bushes and the sounds stops. Furrowing my brows, I scan the surrounding area and listen in with my coyote hearing. Nothing out of the ordinary gets picked up. Shrugging my shoulders, I keep walking and arrive at the building not long after, but the creeping feeling of being watched doesn't leave me.

Kira and Erica are in mid-conversation and Allison settles down on her sleeping bag. I look around the room for a strawberry blonde but she's no where in sight.

"Malia, hey." Allison smiles, throwing her arm over my shoulder. "Glad you could make it. I'm surprised Scott didn't demand that he walk you here."

I chuckle, "Scott would get the ass kicking off his life if he implied that he could take better care of me than I can myself." I say matter-of-fact.

Allison puts her medium length hair into a low, messy bun and looks at me, "He means well. He's just so use to being there for everyone, I think he forgets that we don't always need saving."

I swallow what she said, "That makes sense, he seems like he has a little bit of a hero complex."

Allison nods her head, "He can be hotheaded and temperamental and sometimes a little bit of a tyrant in the way he makes decisions, but the rest of us are usually able to reign him in. Don't get me wrong, Scott's an amazing person and a great leader, but sometimes he thinks keeping stuff from us is his way of protecting us."

"I'm assuming that doesn't go over well with you and Stiles."

She grins, "Not at all. When we have problems with him, it comes to a head quickly. Stiles gets pissed because he knows he's valuable when it comes to thinking levelly and laying all the facts out on the table. Stiles is smart and crafty. He may not be supernatural but he has his wits and he always figures everything out. I think that's why him and Lydia make such a great team."

I look around again for her, "Where is Lydia, by the way."

"She was tutoring some guy in one of her classes. I know right, it's only the first couple of days and Lydia already tested out of one of her upper-level courses. She's a genius, I'm positive she'll win the Nobel Peace Prize one day." She says fondly, "She texted me saying she was almost done and would meet us here."

Within fifteen minutes, all the women in the room settle down on the ground with eager chit chat flowing through the room. Fiona had shown up as well and asked if she could sit with us. Her, Kira, and Erica are talking about the sexist bigot who emailed the mayor of Austin with backlash of what he felt was a "discriminatory" slap to males across the country. The showing tonight is in protest of his idiocy. The school was able to afford this early screening due to it being a private school and all. Lydia trickles in with the last few remaining girls that arrived late. She plops down next to Kira and waves at everyone.

Fiona decides to fully introduce herself, "Hey I'm Fiona. Malia and I are on the track team together." She says cheerfully, throwing her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

She leans into my ear, "I'm really thinking about taking your advice and hooking up with Scott. Could you put in a good word for me?"

Lydia, Allison, and Erica wear matching quizzical expressions as they look at each other with single-cocked eyebrows.

I side-eye the three and turn back to Fiona with a agitated smile, "Sure, I'll see what I can do."

She winks at me and I turn away and meet eyes with Allison who smirks and shrugs, finding a comfortable spot in her blankets. Lydia snuggles up next to Kira and Erica lays sprawled out on her side.

The movie starts and I'm enthralled to say the least. Girls kicking ass and empowering other women has always been a turn on for me. I've been thinking about starting a feminist club on campus and seeing if the other girls wanted to join. I think it's good to talk with men and women to discuss how equality is the main interest at heart and to steer away from the biases that come with the title of being a feminist.

We're about half way through the movie and Allison whispers in my ear, "Are you really going to help that girl out with Scott?"

I reluctantly look away from the screen, "I don't see why not." I shrug.

She looks at me like I'm stupid, "You really don't see it, do you?"

Tearing my attention from the screen I fully face her, "See what?"

"He likes you. I mean I don't even think he realizes it yet but I know Scott better than anyone. I'm just saying, I think you two would be good together."

I look at her confused, "Scott and I are just friends. And in case you haven't noticed, he's still not over you. Besides, you're pretty cool and I like you. And he's your ex."

She rolls her eyes," "He's moved on from me, he just won't let himself see it." She says quietly not to disturb the others, "I've never been in the mindset of being catty, I want Scott to be happy and I think you could be that for him, even if just as friends."

Allison turns her attention back to the screen and doesn't say anything else about it the rest of the night. I try to keep my interest in the movie, but my heart's just not in it. I can't stop my brain from thinking about what she said.

I ignore the feeling in my gut and decide that it doesn't mean anything. My life is too much for even me to handle and I don't want to go mixing up Scott in my already tumultuous mommy and daddy issues. He still doesn't even know that Peter is my father.

The movie is almost over when I hear a creaking sound near one of the windows. Seemingly no one else has noticed, but I turn with subtlety when I see a head of brown hair popping in through the window. I growl and make my way over to investigate, drawing the attention of the other girls. Fiona had fallen asleep a while ago.

None other than a wheezing Stiles Stilinski falls through the window with a groan when he hits his head, looking frazzled and guilty when he sees us, "Hey ladies." He begins, his voice trailing off when he sees our disgruntled expressions. He realizes that he's outnumbered.

Erica pushes through hotly, "What are you doing here, Stiles?"

I grab him by the collar of his flannel, not enough to hurt him but firm enough to get my point across, "If I really have to kick you out myself, you're not going to like how I do it." I threaten lightly, dropping him to the floor.

"Ouch…" He complains, rubbing his head. "Scott, Liam, and Boyd were in on it too."

The deep voice of Boyd yells through the window, "Way to take one for the team, Stiles."

Stiles rolls his eyes and dusts himself off as he stands to his feet.

Lydia has had enough of the nonsense, "You better have a great explanation for why you're here." She sasses with a quirk of her brow, "You have ten seconds."

A strike from the electric lines outside crackles and then fizzles out of nowhere. We all turn to a rueful Kira who grins with a shrug, "I thought the moment needed some drama."

Stiles motions for us to follow him outside where Scott, Boyd, and Liam smile guiltily at the assemblage of pissed off women.

We wait for Stiles to speak and what he says causes all the blood to drain from my face.

"A body has been found."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Sorry it took so long for this update, this chapter was kicking my butt. Leave some really good reviews to help keep the story alive! Is the pacing okay for you guys? Check out TheFlashFics94's new Thiam story, "Howl", it's freaking amazing. I was blushing and giggling the whole time. Enjoy!


	5. Story of a Dead Girl

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Possibility" Lykke Li and "Still" Daughter

MALIA POV:

"A body has been found"

The words ring through my head like quicksilver.

"What do you mean a body has been found? Did you guys find it or someone else?" I start firing off questions, my mind already starting to formulate a plan of action.

Testing out the surrounding area, I sniff the air for any signs of blood.

Stiles holds his hands up in defense, "There was a girl. They found her out by the lacrosse field near the track." He starts off slowly while meeting all the girls' eyes individually, "Lots of people are over there now but an ambulance already came and collected the body. The four of us-" He gestures to Scott, Liam, and Boyd behind him, "we went over to see what everyone was standing around for."

Liam wore a contemplative brooding expression, his face visibly pale and shaken, "I saw her today with Theo on our way to class, she was a part of this LGBT club that wanted us to join. I didn't get to talk to her though, I just remember her face. She was also at the Black Student Alliance Booth. Kids around the field we're whispering about who she was and how they knew her. Her name was Emery Wilson." He whispers, his eyes downcast.

Allison's worried gaze rakes over the four, "So do they know who did this?" She asks, chewing on her bottom lip, "I mean, is this something the cops can handle or is it more of an us problem to look into?" She emphasizes as her brown eyes darken.

Scott takes over, "We didn't get a chance to see the body so we don't know exactly how she died. There could have been claw marks, stab wounds, or strangulation bruises. We're in the dark right now but the rumors circulating are that her body was mutilated, almost beyond recognition." He explains heavily with a tinge of sympathy. His eyes shift around the group and meet mine minutely, "But I think it's best that we let the police handle it for now until we know what happened. Not everything is our responsibility to fix and I don't want to put anyone in harm's way if I don't have to."

Eyebrows shooting up in surprise, I intervene, "No one is asking you to." I state bluntly, rubbing my chin between my fingers as my eyes narrow trying to remember where I'd heard that name before, "Emery Wilson…." I whisper slowly, and then it hits me, "I've heard that name before, she was on the track team with me. Coach called out her name when he was taking roll before practice." I say, faintly recalling a dark-skinned beauty who stood off to the side. I hadn't been paying much attention at the time, mostly caught up in Scott on the field over. She was just another face in the crowd, someone who would have been a potential teammate.

Scott watches the conflicting emotions pass over my face as he reads my hesitation, "Malia, don't be rash. It's not safe or our problem at the moment."

"I can take care of myself, Scott." I snap back in irritation, a little more bite than I intended.

"I know you can." He reassures, "But I just don't think it's a good idea for us to get involved, we've only been here a couple days and this campus is already turning into the plot of a slasher film." He says looking at his pack, "We are finally free from having to save our town every moment of every day like we did in high school. I don't want anyone getting hurt." He states with finality dripping from his words. Testosterone falls off of him in waves.

A low growl vibrates through my throat, "Who died and made you my Alpha? I'm not pack, Scott. Therefore, I'm not your responsibility." I spite out in a clipped tone.

His heated gaze meets me head on until we're up in each other's faces, his nostrils flared and my ears pink with anger, "Why are you so dead set on going after this girl's killer? You didn't even know her."

A crisp blue swims in my eyes, "Someone has to stand up for women." I declare vehemently, "Girls die and go missing all over the world every fucking day and it skates by unnoticed like their lives mean nothing." My eyes start to water but I keep the tears at bay, "I'm not going to let that happen to Emery. If you don't want to help, that's fine. But I'm going to find any clues left to salvage and you are not going to get in my way." I enunciate with a harshness I rarely like to use.

I can feel my coyote clawing against my rib cage, feral and just itching for a fight. I scratch at my skin to keep the feeling away.

Seeing that I'm not backing down, Scott huffs and runs his hands over his eyes, moving his hands to my shoulders in an effort to reason with me, "This isn't the time to be stubborn, Lia. I get it, you can handle yourself and you want to help people which is something I admire about you, but this-" He starts, "This could be serious. I didn't see her, but there was a lot of blood. The freshman who found her was inconsolable. I could still smell her fear, she didn't die easily or without a lot of pain." He whispers, misty eyes softening as they fog over to a glossy brown, most likely recalling the scene of the crime. "Don't go sniffing around in something that isn't our business, yet. We can figure this out together, just give it a few days to fizzle out."

I feel my anger lessen as the warmth of his hands slips through my clothes. My eyes search his trying to get him to understand, "This doesn't sound like an every day murder to me. I have a bad feeling about this." I urge, "And while we're sitting around twiddling our thumbs, someone else could be next." Determined to play on his protectiveness to his pack, I point to the others and state the obvious that no one else wanted to voice, "One of us could be next. What then?"

"It won't come to that."

"And how do you know?"

"Because we protect each other." He says solemnly.

"I don't need anyone to protect me. I've been fine on my own for nineteen years and I'm not going to start relying on anyone now." I explain simply with a shrug. I feel Kira wince beside me.

Scott backs away from me and crosses his arms over his chest. His eyes give nothing away but I can feel him slipping further out of my reach as he closes himself off, "Just tell me one thing, why are you so adamant on this, what will waiting a couple days hurt?"

I look at him long and hard before answering. I have a reason, but not one I'm willing to share in front of everyone. But I also have another one, "Young Black and Latina girls went missing in DC not too long ago. The police didn't deem them important enough to give off Amber Alerts for." I explain, "I'm half Latina, but I could pass for full white. If that had happened to me, I would have had search parties out looking for me all across Washington because I have this little thing called white privilege and I'm owning up to that." I murmur in disgust, "This is why I want to do this, Emery deserves something other than a sad story."

Scott rubs my shoulder, "You care about people, that's more than I can say about most. I'm not asking you to not look into it, I'm asking you to compromise and at least wait."

My mouth falls in a grim line, "Waiting is why those DC girls were never found and are probably rotting in a ditch somewhere. It's too late to save Emery, but it's not too late to save someone else."

The hard edges of his face doesn't lessen, his jaw fixed firmly in place with a scowl passing shadows over his eyes, "Go get yourself killed if that little bit of control is what you're after. Excuse me for giving a damn about you, Lia. But hey, fuck me, right?" He says dismissively as he treks away in the opposite direction. My mouth is left hanging open in shock.

No one dared say a word as the air grew thin and cold, the fire dying down and diminishing between the two of us.

My teeth clench together until I can hear the grinding of bone, "Don't walk away from me, Scott." I growl. He turns back to look at me, still pissed off, the sharp hollow of his cheeks gives him away as his jaw stays fixed stubbornly. With a reluctant sigh my eyes fall before they come back up to meet his in ceasefire, "I'll wait a couple more days but if any other students drop dead than I'm going after this thing with or without you."

His disheveled appearance seems to soften, even if only slightly. His fingers relax from their balled form and his jaw slackens a tick, "If something else happens, I won't stop you." He says, coming back over and looking me over deeply with those intense brown eyes, "I'll be right along beside you."

My eyes close at the feeling of him so intently. I can feel his cool breath on my neck that does nothing to stop goose bumps from erupting over my already chilled flesh. I fix him with a look of apprehension. "As long as you know where I stand on this."

Kira takes a hold of my arm, ushering me back to the Student Union. "Come on, lets get back to the screening." She whispers, "We can fill Theo in tomorrow." I can tell that she's hurt by my comment back there, but I have too much pent up pride to take it back right now.

I let her lead me to the building with my back turned. I can feel Scott's gaze on me the whole time. I sniff the air and I can smell his anger lingering, a whiff of protectiveness preceding it.

"Actually-" I stop in my tracks, "I don't really feel up to the movie anymore, I think I'm just going to head back to the dorm and get some sleep. I've got practice in the morning, anyways." I say quietly.

"Come on Malia, we we're just getting to the good part of the movie. Is there any way we can convince you to stay?" Lydia implores, latching onto my arm in light protest.

Allison brings me into a hug and rests her cheek on top of my head, "Let her go, it's been a crazy night. I'm not really in the mood to go play nice either. A girl just died, I think that warrants her a rain check for tonight." She smiles sadly at me, "But only this once." She smirks, giving my shoulder a squeeze. I send her a grateful smile.

Lydia pulls me into a hug next, "Fine, but you owe us one." She says with a small smile, "Kira, do you want to stay at the screening with me?"

Kira perks up at her question, "Sure, that'd be fun. My roommate goes to sleep early anyways so I don't want to wake her, she's kind of a bitch." She says, scrunching her nose in distaste.

"Actually Lydia, can I talk to you for a minute?" Stiles asks meekly, looking at her through his long lashes.

STILES POV:

The others break off and go their own ways, Lydia staying behind so I can talk to her.

When everyone's gone she walks over to me searchingly, "What is it, Stiles?"

Her long, strawberry blonde hair falls in perfect waves. I resist the urge to reach out and tuck a loose, silky strand behind her ear, "What's going on with you and Kira? We're best friends Lyds and you've never mentioned being gay. I know the others haven't commented on it, but I thought we're closer than that."

"Because I'm not." She says coolly.

"What-"

"I'm bisexual, Stiles. There's a difference." She clarifies at my stupefied expression. "What's that look on your face for?" She deadpans.

"What look?" I ask and she glares at me until I relent, "Maybe this is just my usual interrogatory expression." I supply.

Large, green eyes take in my bluff, "Just spit it out, Stiles. There's something you want to say to me, so just say it. Your interrogatory expression is getting on my nerves." She says unnerved, her pink lips parting in irritation.

My eyes narrow at her defensiveness, "Why are you biting my head off for being interested in your life? I'm trying to understand and be your friend but your shutting me out."

Anger glares in her eyes, "No Stiles, you're trying to subscribe me to a label. Labels are the opposite of understanding." She snaps, whispering the last part. She looks down at the ground in a shyness uncharacteristic of her usual confident demeanor. She frowns her plump, pink lips and her dimples appear out of habit, "I like Kira. Romantically or not, I'm still figuring out. I'm getting to know her and I want to keep finding out more about her." She lays her small hand on my arm, "All the men in my life have always let me down and I told myself that when I came to college things would be different. I want to see where things with Kira could go. I've always been attracted to girls but never actually dated one so I'm scared I'll screw something up. So if I don't want to tell you everything than that's for me to decide and not for you to judge me."

Her slapping me would have hurt less. A dark shadow crosses my face, "Do you really think that low of me, that I'm judging you? I'm not homophobic, Lydia, and it pisses me off that you would even imply that shit." I fume, "Sorry for being just another disappointment in your life." I murmur, hurt. I walk away from her, intent on having the last word.

"Stiles," She yells after me, her eyes filled with tears that I would usually rush to wipe away, "You know I didn't mean you." She says in apology.

Forlorn sadness melts into every crevice of my body, "You might as well have."

I continue the walk back to the dorm.

SCOTT:

Entering the bedroom, Malia doesn't raise her eyes to greet me, her head buried in a textbook.

Deciding to ignore it, I grab a change of underwear and clothes, my pillow, and a blanket. "I'll sleep on the futon."

Not even flinching she fires back, "Don't be a dumb ass, Scott, sleep in your own bed. You're presence isn't that unwelcome." She surmises shortly, eyes still glued to the book.

"Whatever" I grumble, crashing on the mattress and turning away from her to lift my shirt over my head and change out of my jeans. I lay barebacked with my head to the ceiling. Just to annoy her a little I say, "It's kind of hot in here so I'm sleeping shirtless. That doesn't bother you, does it?"

"It's nothing I haven't seen before." She says flippantly, turning a page in her book. She chews on the head of her pen, her tongue curling around the tip and running her blunt teeth over it. It's cute and annoying how she can be sexy without even trying. I think she's caught onto me staring.

Huffing angrily she throws her book down and spins towards me, "Can you stop looking at me like that? It's distracting and I'm trying to get a head start in this Nursing Process class. Lord knows it's going to kick my ass."

I smirk at her frustration, "You once said I was a good distraction."

She cracks a small smile, "I meant in a more inappropriate way, Scott." The shadow of a grin still on her face, she fully faces me now, "Fiona asked about you." She says casually, relaxing back into her pillow.

"And?" I press.

Malia shrugs, "She wants to have sex with you." Her expression unreadable she continues, "I told her she should go for it."

"So you're just pimping me out now?" I lightly tease.

She rolls her eyes with a close-lipped smile. "Most guys would say thank you. She's hot and into you, you should be happy."

"You're hot, too-" I rush out and then backtrack, a faint blush on my cheeks, "What I meant is that I think she swings both ways. I saw her checking you out when you were running earlier. She may just be trying to make you jealous by going after me."

She chuckles, "Or maybe she's kinky and wants both of us at the same time" She says in a hushed whisper, "I mean either way I'm not shutting the idea down completely. Kira swears your first taste of pussy is addictive."

"Yeah, can't argue there." I eye her with playful, lazy grin which she returns.

Her phone goes off and she reads over a text, "I'm actually going to stay the night at Theo's, I want to catch him up on what happened tonight otherwise I won't be able to sleep. I don't like keeping things from him or Kira."

"Seems like they've been with you for a long time." I say, calling back the comment she made earlier about not needing anyone and taking care of herself.

Catching onto my hint, she glares in my direction, "Don't start, Scott." She warns.

"All I'm saying is that it was kind of harsh what you said, seems like Kira thought differently than you."

She growls, "I already know that I hurt her feelings and I don't need you to rub it in. And it's really none of your business, anyways."

We keep eye contact for a lingering moment until I break it with a huff, "You're right, it's none of my business. Give me a heads up the next time you think I'm about to offend you by trying to relate to you."

She doesn't acknowledge my comment, "I'm going to go." She says shortly, grabbing her toiletries and a change of clothes, "I'll see you at the track and field tomorrow." She pauses, "Actually maybe not since that's where Emery was found. I doubt they got all the blood up this late at night. I guess we'll find out in the morning."

I wave her off, "Yeah, see you."

She stands in the doorway watching me. After a moment, she leaves without a word.

I growl under my breath and fly towards the door, catching her before she makes it out, "Be careful, Malia, okay?" I grumble, a smidgen of worry lacing my tone. I didn't offer to walk her because I didn't want to give her something else to yell at me about, "Promise me? It will give me a little peace of mind."

A ghost of a smile surfaces, "I promise." She whispers, deep brown eyes penetrating my cold exterior, "Good night Scott."

I give her a half smile, "Bye Lia."

LIAM POV:

Scott is going to kill me for this.

I wait until Malia leaves the dorm and follow her honey and vanilla scent to a three-story redbrick apartment building. I make myself a part of the shadows as I wait. Theo and Malia come out of one of the doors talking in hushed whispers, thankfully too distracted to hear the heavy sloshing of my heartbeat. I've never been a part of a stake out before, but I've seen enough movies to get the gist of it. However, I'm bound to give myself away if I don't get my erratic, nervous breathing and heart under control. Honestly I'm more scared of Malia yelling at me than Theo. She's a bit rough around the edges and I bet she isn't afraid to slap me around a little. But I have an inkling of confidence that Theo would step in before she really hurt me. I see him decked out in all black from head to toe, his ash brown hair now resembling a tantalizing onyx in the suffocating, dark shadows and silvery moonlight that bleeds through a crack in the sky.

Hidden in the underbrush of thick leaves that sit near the apartments, I catch a glimpse of the two walking towards campus through a heavily wooded area.

I let them roam for a bit, still able to keep track of their scents. Once I let them get far enough, I look around to make sure the coast is clear.

When I don't hear their foot steps anymore I start to move out of my hiding spot and let my senses guide me. I can't exactly see them from how far back I'm following, but their voices hit my ears with the same clarity as if they were right beside me.

It's silent for a while, neither of them talks. I can hear Malia's heavy breathing and Theo's attempts at conversation. After a few minutes of him not catching the hint, Malia lets out a frustrated growl, "You're in a chatty mood tonight."

I can almost hear the smirk in Theo's voice, "So what are we really doing out here, Nancy Drew? I thought you were playing nice with Scott and agreed to leave this sleuthing stuff alone for now."

Malia's disembodied voice carries into my ears, "I told Scott I'd wait a couple days to appease him, but you and I both know I'm not one for following rules."

Theo's low, smoky voice whispers back, "Sounds to me like Daddy Alpha Scott is used to others submitting to him." He ponders with a mischievous twinkle in his dark grey eyes, "That can be okay in more pleasurable circumstances. If I were you Doll, I'd cut him a little break, It seems like he's just worried about you."

"He doesn't need to be worried about me, I'm not his to worry about." She says quietly.

"So you're completely turned away by the thought of him caring about you?" Theo presses.

They walk for a few more minutes deeper into the maze of trees before Malia speaks again. Taking a risky move, I start speeding up until I have them in eye-range.

She shifts from foot to foot and continues looking forward, "Letting someone care about you leads to expectations, ones that I'm not interested in entertaining at the moment." They trek further through thick trees and dirt, "Besides, I have you and Kira. And Henry and Peter. What more do I need?"

Peter. I wonder if that could have any relations to Peter Ha-

I'm cut off from my inner-monologue when my lack of stealth ends with me crunching a fallen branch beneath my feet. The sound echos throughout the trees.

Malia whips around, scouring the area with dark, dangerous eyes. "Someone's following us." She assesses with a feral look and her wild hair blowing in the breeze. She takes a whiff of the air and gasps, "Mother fucker."

Theo picks up on it as well and I know that I'm caught.

Malia disappears in a flash and I wait for the onslaught of the pissed off werecoyote but instead a heavier weight befalls on me with my back pressed against the dirt ground and a beefy, strong hand holds me there. Theo smiles down at me, "I could of killed you, you know."

Getting over my mild heart attack, I fall victim to word vomit, "Nah, you like me too much." I stumble out but instantly want to take it back when I feel my face heat up, "I mean you like messing with me." I stutter out, blushing.

He smirks at my expense, "I don't know, you may be right. I kind of like how you look underneath me." He says, eyes roaming my body teasingly. "Of course, you would need to be in a slightly different position," He details in his honeyed voice that shoots straight down to my dick. He looks down at the bulge in my jeans with devilish eyes, "Seems like you like me a little bit, too." His dark appraisal making me want to rub myself against him and buck into his strong, domineering hips. "You might want to fix that before Malia comes back. I'm down for a quickie, but I don't think that sporadic heart of yours can take any more of a work out."

He gets off of me and helps me to my feet while simultaneously checking out my ass. I would of rolled my eyes if it were under different circumstances. Before I can register what's happening, an arrow zips past a tree and flies at my face. I close my eyes in anticipation of the hit but it never comes. Theo's hand whips out and catches the arrow that now sits a couple centimeters from my face.

"Get down!" He warns, forcibly pushing on my shoulder and shoving me behind the safety of a tree.

"Hunters?" I question.

He shakes his head as his dark eyebrows knit together, "If it we're, they'd have to be rouge hunters. No prominent families have claim on this surrounding territory."

"What do we do?"

His teeth worry at his bottom lip, "I need to find Malia, she shouldn't be off by herself. She can hold her own but when instigated she can get a little murdery." He sighs.

We turn at the sound of what mimics a gun shot, "Get down!" Theo yells, throwing his body over mine like a shield. We bump noses and his top lip grazes the corner of my mouth. My blue eyes widen in shock but then everything seems to quiet for a moment when all the sounds die down. Theo's mouth hang a fraction of a centimeter from mine, his heavy breathing mingling with mine and our foreheads rest against each others. His granite eyes devour my blue ones and I find myself leaning in just enough that I can taste the remnants of peppermint on his breath. I swallow hard still looking at him until my eyes drop to his lips and then back up to his face, "Thanks for saving me."

He wets his lips and a sliver of something I cannot place shines in his eyes that show silver in the moonlight, "Would I be reaching to think you would of done the same for me?"

A tremulous smile tickles my lips, "Not entirely."

He bites his lip as his eyes flick to my lips again.

A throaty cough breaks our moment and I spring out from underneath him to see a smirking Malia leaning against a tree, "Sorry, am I interrupting something?" She simpers knowingly. Her brown eyes assess Theo who's smiling like a fool and her smirk grows an inch before turning back to me, "So you were the mole following us, I can't tell if you're brave or just stupid." She muses with her head cocked and a hand on her jean-clad hips.

I shrug sheepishly, "Maybe a little bit of both."

She snorts. "Does Scott know you're here?"

I change my stance to one that exudes confidence, "What do you think?"

She gives me an approving look that for some reason fills me with pride. An impressed Malia seems like no easy feat. "You're his first Beta, right? I'm surprised you have the balls to go against him."

"I'm not" Theo murmurs thickly, his grey eyes swimming with implication when they fall to my still semi-hard dick. Malia clears her throat to hide her chuckle.

I feel my body grow warm under their appraisal, "I don't agree with his decision…" I start, "That's why I followed you guys. I want to help."

Malia nods mutely. "I heard the gun shot, we need to get out of here." She asserts, dragging her feet through the mud. Her shirt is slightly ripped and her usually unruly hair is a little more disheveled then normal. Theo stays glued to her side, "Run into any trouble?"

She looks at him analyzing her disarray of clothes and mussed hair, "Nothing I couldn't handle."

We start walking back to the apartment with me a good couple of yards or so in front of them.

"So hunters?" I throw in, turning over my shoulder to get their attention.

She shakes her head, "I don't know, it was too dark to tell and they move really really fast. They were also experts of camouflage. Even I couldn't keep up."

"Malia, you're bleeding." Theo rouses her as he inspects the blood stain on her side. He lifts her shirt and sees what looks like someone had bit her.

"Flesh wound, I'll heal."

"Malia, this could be bad. We don't know what did this too you, you need to see someone."

Her eyes shift to me and narrow, turning back to Theo, "Don't even think about it, I'm not going to him for help."

Who is he?

"Peter is a lot of things, including an ass, but he's encountered a Beastiery-full of creatures, he may be able to give us some intel." Theo argues.

"I said I'm not asking him for help!" She bites out, trying to keep her voice down but her anger slips through.

Theo looks over at me and then back at her before whispering, "This conversation isn't over."

MALIA POV:

The night slips by fast, Liam went home and Theo made up the guest room for me even though I would have been more than happy to sleep on the sofa.

He takes a look at my bite, the edges starting to turn a faint yellow as the flesh burns a hot, unforgiving red. "If this shit doesn't clear up by tomorrow I'm calling Peter, myself. I'm serious Malia, I won't lose you because you're afraid of a little blow to your ego." He chides carefully before applying a disinfectant and thick, white gauze to cover it.

He kisses me on the forehead and moves towards the door, "Don't hesitate to wake me if you start to feel pain."

"What's life without a little pain?" I say lightly.

He growls lowly, "I'm not kidding." His opalescent grey eyes darken in concern, "I don't know what I'd do if you were gone."

I nod quietly and move across the room to bring him into a hug. We rarely get sentimental with each other, but I know he's kind of freaked out about the whole thing that went down. "I'm not going anywhere." I promise.

He squeezes me tighter, "It's cute how you think death can get you out of this friendship." He grins against my hair. My lips pull back into one similar to his as a small tear leaks down my cheek, "I wouldn't even dream of it."

Theo exits the room with one last glance.

Moving onto the bed, I curl into the soft cushion of the mattress and drown further into my cocoon of blankets. I watch a little bit of Vampire Diaries until I fall asleep, nothing knocks me out faster than hearing Elena Gilbert whine. I'm a little more partial to Stefan than Damon even though the previous can be a bit of a bore at times. Damon, however, he's just trash. Klaus, though, that's my man. Bonnie, I'd eat her. And I'd let her eat me. Caroline's a little too neurotic for my tastes. Tyler can press my face into a mattress any day. And Elena, she can die. I get through one episode and call it a night.

I turn off the tv with a yawn, wincing from the pressure laying on my side puts on my wound. I can feel the flesh ripping apart like a loose thread gone awry. With a huff, I transfer myself over onto my back, the reality of what happened slapping me in the face. I just hope this thing heals before tomorrow, I really don't need another repeat of what happened yesterday with Scott. And I definitely am not eager for a face to face with Peter.

Eventually I succumb to the calls of sleep.

I wake to 32 texts. 10 missed calls. And 4 voice mails.

Some from Allison, a chunk of them from Kira, a couple from Lydia, four from Stiles, and the rest from Scott.

What the hell is going on.

The first text I see is a message from the University.

"All classes have been canceled today and until further notice due to the events that have transpired this morning. Our janitors are sweeping the campus and collecting the photographs as we speak. Stay inside, stay safe, and stay alert. We will be holding an optional memorial service for Emery Wilson later this evening in Botanical Gardens at 1:00."

This morning? What photographs?

Another text from Coach Phillips.

"The school has canceled all extracurricular activities until further notice so no practice today. My condolences to all who knew and loved Emery on the team. A beautiful, young life was lost too soon. Keep her family in your prayers."

I run to Theo's room but he's already gone. "Dammit." I mutter under my breath.

I throw some clothes on and race out the door towards campus. I get there in record time and stop in the middle of the lawn. Strewn across the grass, hung in trees, taped to walls and open surfaces, and littering the quarter are high-definition pictures of a butchered, bloodied Emery.

"Oh my god." I gasp and drop the picture to the ground.

I feel myself begin to shake. What kind of sick fuck would do something like this?

I drop to my knees and feel tears sting my eyes. My bottom lips quivers and I can't stop the twitching of my limbs. I think I'm having an anxiety attack.

My bones scrap against the confines of my skin as though trying to escape my body. I bend over and vomit, the liquid pouring out of me in endless amounts. I feel a warm hand on the back of my neck. I manage to turn without throwing up again and see a worried Scott holding my hair. He rubs small circles on my back, "Lets get you out of here, you don't need to see this."

He scoops me protectively into his arms while still letting me walk myself. He shields me with his body while helping guide my limp form. Numbness pounds at my head that rests on his chest. I whimper as we pass the pictures, some from different angles and more detailed then the one I saw. "I think I'm going to be sick." I moan.

Our feet crunch the endless supply of photos covering the surface of the ground, each step feeling more and more like I'm drowning. Beautiful Emery, slaughtered like an animal. Some pictures show her with bones protruding from different areas of her body, blood soaked and raw flesh torn out of her. Her neck is slit and jagged, the side looking as though someone had gnawed through it and cut lazily across the middle. Her limbs are black and blue, her once brown eyes hidden by the purple and yellow swelling of her face. Her cheekbones are sunken in and broken, her legs sitting at distorted, odd angles.

An icy chill creeps down my spine as the hairs on the back of my neck stand on edge.

Sloppy tears fall freely down my face for a girl I never got the chance to know. Many other students are in the same state as myself. A girl with an LGBT shirt cries out in grief holding one of the picture while falling into the arms of a guy in a Black Student Union shirt. The horror has a domino effect, masses of students crying and mourning, others in shock as they all stand around in a circle.

I can hear Scott sniffling beside me. He wipes his eyes quickly and pulls me closer. I press my face into his neck clutch his shirt between my fixed fists to hide away from the surroundings. "Scott, this is why." My voice brittle and flat.

He runs his fingers through my hair in an act of comfort, "Why what?" He croaks.

"This." I whisper brokenly, "The reason I wanted to go after Emery's killer so bad is because it reminded me of what happened to my mom and sister." I explain, grasping another picture in my hand as I rip it apart, "This is painstakingly similar to how my mom and Kylie looked when I found them dead and mutilated in my childhood home."

"Scott! Malia!" Stiles and Allison come running over. Allison clings to Scott and Stiles pulls me deeply into his plaid flannel that smells of rain and freshly mowed grass. I let him hold me as he whispers that everything is going to be okay. But it's not, this will never be okay.

His chin rests on my head with the few inches he has on me. He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it around my shoulders. I wrap it tighter and pull away from his embrace with a weak chuckle, "I got snot on your shirt."

He waves it off with a lukewarm smile, "I don't mind."

I move in a little closer to him to push away the cold that starts to crawl up my arms, his thin jacket doing little to keep the chill of the morning out. But hey, it's the thought that counts.

Scott looks on us with an unreadable expression. I raise an eyebrow at the look and he wipes it away quickly, but I catch the faint glint of annoyance that reflects off his eyes.

Allison attacks me next, the side of her face smashed against mine. Her quiet, silvery voice soothes me, "You we're right. Whatever plan you have, I'm with you."

I run my fingers through her chestnut hair, "We'll figure this out. All of us. Together."

Scott intervenes, "I texted the others, everyone's pretty shaken. Maybe we could all meet up for a movie night or something later back at our place to calm down. We should all be together on a day like this."

Allison grabs his hand and squeezes, "Good plan, I'll bring some comfort food."

"I'll bring some movies." Stiles volunteers, "Comedies, strictly comedies."

We all walk back towards the dorms where the janitors have already swept up any remaining photographs. Now that the restlessness is out of my system, I can finally breath again.

"Actually I bet Theo wouldn't mind us all crashing at his place. His apartment has a lot more room and he just got an Apple Tv." I suggest softly, the aftermath of what I'd witnessed grating at my skin. I send a quick text to Theo to make sure it's okay that everyone comes over.

"What's up with Theo, is he rich or something? Those apartments across campus are pretty steep in price. If Liam doesn't snag him, I'm not above looking for a sugar daddy." Stiles jokes with his arms out in an shrug to lighten the mood.

I smack him on the chest, "Stop it, Liam is delicate. I bet he thinks none of us know he has the hots for Theo, but he's a little transparent. He's kind of a weird kid, honestly. Also a lousy pretender." I muse, thinking back to the precarious position I found them in when I came back last night.

Stiles grins evilly, "I knew it right away, guys don't go to the bathroom together."

Allison rolls her eyes, "You and Scott do a lot of questionable things together."

He ignores her and turns to me, "Do you think I'm attractive to gay men? I once tried asking this guy Danny in high school and could never get a straight answer. But this guy did buy me a drink at a gay bar once sophomore year…" He reminisces, his honey eyes looking up at the sky in remembrance.

"And then Derek beat your head against your steering wheel when you tried to use him to seduce Danny into helping us track the person who hacked Allison's phone." Scott chuckles at one of the hundreds of memories the two probably share together.

I bristle at the mention of a name… Derek.

This definitely couldn't be a coincidence anymore. First Peter and now my cousin Derek? How much of my family is interwoven into the lives of these people?

"Malia, are you okay?" Scott asks, sensing my growing discomfort.

I'm starting to feel a little woozy. My wound stings and I can feel the blood seeping through the gauze. My head spins and I stumble slightly.

"Mal…" Stiles calls, catching me before I fall.

"I'm fine."

Scott, Allison, and Stiles all look at each other and than back at me.

"I smell blood." Scott says suspiciously, looking me over for the culprit. He ignores my light protests and eventually finds the source of my pain.

"Lia…" He starts testily trying to control his anger, "What the hell is this?"

I move away from his hands and wince when I do. I bite my lip to stop a groan from escaping, "I was sparring with Theo yesterday and things got a little out of hand."

Stiles interrupts, "Why were you sparring with Theo? And shouldn't it have healed by now?"

I mentally curse under my breath, "He… wants to go out for the wrestling team." I say lousily, the three of them looking unconvinced. "And it was a deep wound, I'll be fine. It's already beginning to heal."

"Then how come I can smell the infection festering?" Scott fires back with narrowed eyes, "Now who's the terrible liar?" He fumes from his spot beside me.

I look at him sharply, "Remember when I said some things are none of your business? This is one of those times." I throw back at him. All this yelling makes me sway a bit. I break out into a cold sweat.

"Fuck. " He growls, "You went out looking for the killer, didn't you?" Scott explodes, his eyes bleed red as he fights to keep his voice down.

"So what if I did?" I poke back at the challenge, not really giving a damn if he's mad. We made a deal and I changed my mind. It's too late to take it back now. Besides, I don't owe him anything.

"I can't believe you-" He storms off and then comes back angrier, "And now you're hurt! Why couldn't you of listened to me just this once? I was just trying to protect you."

My teeth clench and I yell back, "I already told you I don't need your protection, Scott!"

He guffaws, pointing to my fleshy wound, "How's that working out for you?"

I bite my tongue before I say something that I'll regret later.

He's about to storm at me again but Allison holds him back with a hand on his chest as she gets between the two of us, "Scott, get a fucking grip. You need to take a beat to calm down. I'll bring her back to the room to clean her up and you and Stiles go back to his place for a while." She sighs, looping her arm through mine to steady me. "Just because you're a werewolf doesn't mean you have to act like one." She deadpans with a glare. Without another word, she leads me inside the dorms.

I say a silent prayer for Stiles. I know Scott is pissed off that I went behind his back, but I'm not obligated to follow his rules.

"He's being an ass because he cares." Allison thinks out loud. She gets me inside my room and into the bathroom. I sit on the sink while she works on my bite. "Probably more than he wants to, honestly."

I shake off her comment, "It doesn't excuse him acting like he controls me."

She stops what she's doing and lays her hand on my knee, "I don't think he's trying to, you're just growing on him. He fights fiercely for the ones he cares about which can be few and far between. I'd be concerned if he didn't yell at you."

I squirm under the weight of her dark eyes, "I just hate the way he looked at me like I betrayed him. I know we came to an agreement and I broke it. I get why he's mad, I just don't like it." I mutter insecurely.

She smiles coaxingly, "You're going to have to face him eventually, you know."

Grabbing some alcohol swabs, she dabs at the inflamed skin that seems to blister even more when she touches it. I grit my teeth to keep from crying out, my teeth making a small splint in my chapped lips.

"I think you're getting a fever." She feels at my forehead wearily, "You really need to see a doctor."

I protest, "No. No doctors, no hospitals. I'll be fine, it's just taking longer than usual to heal."

My reassurance falls on deaf ears.

"Malia, you have an infection festering directly on the skin. It's eating away at all the good bacteria and the neutrophils that aid in the healing process at the sight of injury. If you don't get professional help it will eventually start corroding the flesh. You're going to see a fucking doctor." She demands with a hard look that dares me to fight her on it.

"I'm not going to a hospital." I growl.

Her jaw clenches, "Fine, I'm going to at least give you an antibiotic." She sighs, exhausted. She gets up to move out of the bathroom.

Facing the mirror, I see the dark, worried circles that fall underneath my eyes. My cheeks are red from crying and my hair looks like a mess. I don't recognize the girl in front of me.

Allison returns and comes to stand behind me, "You know I just want what's best for you, right? Emotions are running high and we all want you to be okay. Sorry if I came off a bit snappy, I'm just worried about you."

I give her a weak smile, "I know."

"Good." She grimaces, "That's how I know you'll forgive me for this."

Next thing I know there's a needle in the side of my neck as Allison pushes down on the plunger. I jolt at the sharpness of it. The familiar burn of Wolfsbane shoots down my spine, white hot pain making me gasp as she catches my immobilized body that falls heavy against her chest. My vision swims and she's fading out of sight, the only thing remaining are those bottomless, chocolate eyes simmering with regret. Black invades my periphery and I'm being swallowed whole. The last thing I hear is the fading lull of her voice telling me that she's sorry and that everything will be okay.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Okay guys, I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I didn't get a lot of feedback on the last one so please take a minute to review and let me know specific things you liked or didn't like, if you like the pacing of the story, and if there's anything you'd like to see more of or something changed. Without you guys, I can't know if you're liking where the story is headed and I want to provide the best reading experience. So let me know before I get too deep into the plot if you don't like something or if you do otherwise I can't change it later on. Thanks for the love and support! Check out TheFlashFic94's second chapter of Howling, it's her new Thiam fic and it's crazy good!


	6. Back In Retrograde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Count Me In" Early Winters

SCOTT POV:

Malia's unconscious form lays sprawled in Allison's arms when I walk in. My anger from before almost evaporates at the sight of her helpless and defenseless. Almost.

My eyes widen when I take her in; her golden brown hair falling over her shoulder, body slumped, and whiskey eyes hidden behind her eyelids. I rush over to her and scoop her out of Allison's reluctant arms, "What did you do?" I mumble frantically, searching Malia over for any signs of injury. My nose grazes her hair, skin and clothes, my natural instincts kicking in. I can feel my anger build back up again when I smell Wolfsbane in her system. I turn my penetrating gaze on Allison who stares back with cool, brown eyes, "What we're you thinking, Ally?"

Her hard brown eyes don't falter, "She was going to die, Scott. That infection is going to rip through her body if we don't do something about it." She pauses as she takes confident steps towards me, "She refused to get help, so I did what I had to do. And as much as she may hate me when she wakes up, I don't regret it because at least she'll be alive." She speaks with empowerment but traces of emotion bleed through her words. I can see the weight of her decision beating down on her; pale fingers shake at her sides and she can't seem to stay still.

I text Stiles and let him know what happened.

Putting most of Malia's weight over one shoulder, I pull Ally into a hug with the other arm and ruffle her chestnut hair with my fingers, "She'll forgive you." I whisper in her ear. I can feel her body shudder around me.

Her airy voice falls from her lips, "How do you know?"

"Because she would of done the same for you."

I break away from her and move to cradle Malia more comfortably in both arms so she won't be sore when she wakes up. She's going to be pissed, I just know it. A storm is brewing in this body of hers, so much so that I can almost touch the resentment simmering beneath my fingers. Just because she's unconscious doesn't mean that she can't feel anything. Her emotions are screaming at me, arguing against her confines until her insides burn. It's the most real heat I've ever felt. Here she is, slowly but surely, stitching her brand on me. A very real and very scary thing.

I move purposely towards the door and Allison follows behind me, "I texted Stiles. We're taking her to see my mom. It's about a two hour trip, but it'll have to work. Grab some pain meds from the closet to hold her over until we get there. The pain will probably feel worse when she's conscious."

Ally crinkles her eyebrows, "That stuff doesn't work on you guys."

"Deaton asked one of his close contacts for a favor. Who knew that supernatural drug dealers we're a thing. By the way, where did you find Wolfsbane? I don't keep any in the room."

"I always carry some on me, habit of being a hunter's daughter. Most dads encourage pepper spray, but obviously nothing is normal about any of us." She cracks a small smile, "Is that what you and Stiles do in your free time? Get supernaturally high on opiates?"

I quirk a brow with a guilty grin of my own, "I plead the fifth."

She shakes her head in amusement and looks back to meet me with eyes that interchange to a soft somber, "Scott, I'm sorry."

I look at her quizzically, "Don't worry about it right now, Al. I know she'll get over this, she'll just need time."

She wets her lips and walks closer until her doe eyes capture mine, "That's not what I meant. I meant I'm sorry- about us. About everything, I suppose." She bites her lip between her teeth and looks up at me through her lashes, "I ghosted you for a while and that wasn't okay. I never apologized then but I am now, I just hope it's not too late for you to forgive me. It seems like I'm going to need an ample amount of that these next few days."

I look at her, Allison. Soft and angelic as she's always been. I see the amazing, strong, confident woman that she's turned into, the one that has been there all along even though she'd be quick to disagree with me. We ran our course and the passion between us went stale somewhere in between fighting our demons by day and hunting monsters by night. Losing her felt like losing a limb, but after a while I realized that like everything, time helped. But even then, those tense months without her felt like the real drought, having become accustomed to her flooding my senses every minute of the day when we were together.

I missed laughing with her. I missed being her friend. Mostly, I just missed her. I see her now and I see a close friend, one that I would do anything for. The difference now is that I know that she stands on equal ground as the rest of the pack, I would lay my life for each and every one of them, too.

My body slackens a little as the weight of my epiphany takes some of the edge of my shoulders, "There's nothing to forgive." I say calmly, reassuring her with a crooked smile, "But you're going to have to break the news to Kira and Theo about Malia. They'll get suspicious if she just disappears for a couple days. Stiles is packing us some stuff and loading it into the car. I'm going to get her inside his jeep before the RA sees us."

"Kira's going to bite my head off. Theo may be the tamer option of the two."

I nod, "You're probably right. But I think Kira would lose a lot of respect for you if she doesn't hear it from you."

She makes a noise in the back of her throat, "I'll call them," She says nervously, "Just not right now."

"If it makes you feel better, we're doing this to save Malia. Eventually they'll see that we're only doing what we can to help her. They're all very close, I doubt they would object if it meant not losing her."

Ally sighs, "Lets just get this over with, get her in the jeep and take off before I start to regret this."

She heads over to the closet and gets the pain meds. Walking out to the dormitories, Stiles pulls up to the front in his jeep.

He rushes out and slams the door, coming around to meet us on the passenger side, "Is she okay?"

Allison looks away guiltily while I hold an unconscious Malia, "She will be."

Stiles' honey eyes survey me for a second before his gaze shifts to Malia. He reaches to take her from me and put her in the car but one look at my face and he stops in his tracks. A low growl rumbles in my chest but I squash it down with a bit of effort. For some reason, I don't want anyone to touch her, not when she's so weak and vulnerable. I know I'm a little hot-headed and a bit territorial, but it's the side effect of being an Alpha. What really worries me is that I've never been this way with anyone. Not even Allison.

A slightly amused smirk plays on Stiles' lips but he doesn't say anything.

I shake my head to clear my thoughts and motion to the back door for Stiles to open. Carefully maneuvering myself into the seats, I keep a secure hold on Malia who remains limp in my arms. Once we're in, I take a good look at her. Tear stains race down her face. There's a certain stillness about her, something that I'm not used to with the different emotions that seem to usually move across her face at a time. She's an open book I've come to realize, never able to hide a single thing she's thinking. I hear her heart beating; steady like a drum, gentle as a bird's wings, with the power of a hurricane. She's the kind of paradox I can appreciate.

I move hair away from her forehead, the skin clammy and pale. Her face is fixed in a stilled grimace. Running my finger down her face, I trace the dark circles that make a home underneath her eyes. On it's own accord, my trailing touch eventually runs from her temple to cheek, caressing her as my thumb brushes her jaw. I'm going to make the pain go away.

From there, I pull. Black veins paint my skin in damaged blues and bruised purples as I take the pain from her and onto myself. I let out a little grunt at the feeling, the black tendrils swimming excruciatingly deep, seeming to engorge as I take as much I can. I gasp from the intensity of it until I finally pull away. I suck in a breath as the veins start to disappear. A little tension leaves her, the noticeable tension in her mouth subsiding slightly.

I smile at that, happy I was able to help her in some way, even if only temporarily. Allison watches from beside me with cautious joy and a tinge of sadness. I already know what she's thinking about. Stiles pulls out of the student parking lot while I send a quick text to Braedan letting her know that I would be gone for a couple of days and that we could meet up for coffee later if I miss a hall meeting or anything. I hope we don't have any room checks coming up, I'm sure the shared bedroom with Malia's and I's things will raise a few questions.

Stiles hums from the front seat and beats his hands against the stereo to Carry On My Wayward Son. I chuckle at the choice of song and sing a little under my breath. I love the gritty vibe of the beat and lyrics. I turn to Allison who has been quiet for a while, "When are you going to tell them?"

She fidgets in her seat, "I was hoping to put it off as long as possible, but I guess right now is just as good of a time as any." She mumbles self-consciously as she digs through her bag for her cellphone. She scrolls the contacts at a lethargic pace until she inevitably finds the kitsune's contact information. She pushes the call button and presses the phone to her ear. It rings a few time until Kira answers, "Hey Allison, what's up?"

Allison clears her throat, "Hey Kira, I'm on the road actually-"

"Have you seen Malia?" Kira cuts her off prematurally, "I haven't talked to her all day and Theo hasn't seen her since last night. We're really worried about her, she isn't answering her phone."

"I- uh- yeah I've seen her. She's with me."

"Okay…" Kira drawls suspiciously sensing Allison's hesitance, "Can I talk to her?"

I look at Allison waiting to see how she'd break the news. Her mouth opens trying to get the words out but she falls flat. Stiles peeks at us through the rear view mirror.

Small tears well in her eyes, "I- I drugged-"

I snatch the phone from her, "We drug her along for a little road trip with Ally, Stiles, and I. It was kind of a spur of the moment thing and Stiles didn't have a lot of room in his jeep otherwise we would of asked you guys to come along." I articulate semi-convincingly, shifting my eyes to an appreciative Allison who lets out a sigh of relief. "I'm sure you've seen the photographs around campus. Malia was really upset so we wanted to take her mind off of it. We're going to go visit my mom but we should be back in a couple days."

Kira's silence rings through the receiver causing me to start sweating a little bit, "Malia didn't mention it to Theo or I, she never just leaves without telling one of us. Scott, where is she?" She grits through the phone, sniffing out my half-truth like a blood hound. I can hear tiny electric currents sparking on her end. I'm treading a fine line and she's getting worked up fast.

"She's sleeping in the back seat." I mumble.

"Well wake her the hell up." She all but growls.

I look to Allison in defeat, "I can't do that, Kira."

Her voice comes out with the potency of acid, "What aren't you telling me, Scott?"

Allison grabs the phone back out of my hands and presses it to her ear, "Malia is in trouble. Her and Theo went out looking for Emery's killer last night and Malia got hurt. She's been bitten by something and it's poisoning her body." She takes a breath, "Scott wasn't lying, we are on a road trip to Beacon Hills to take her to see his mom. She's a nurse and has dealt with stuff like this before."

"That doesn't explain why I can't talk to Malia." She mutters hotly. "Put her on the phone, Allison."

Allison sighs running her fingers through her brown tresses, "Malia wouldn't come willingly… the infection is eating away at her and she wouldn't take help from anyone, so… I injected her with Wolfsbane."

On command, lightening crackles in the sky with a thunderous rumble when the words leave Allison's lips. One after the other lightening bolts take over the gray skies in tumultuous claps.

"Kira…" Allison attempts to calm her. She had to be damn near uncontrollable to be able to cause a lightening storm like this. Having Kira on edge will only make more problems. None of us knew how powerful she is.

She interrupts her with a tone that leaks distrust and begrudged acceptance, "I get that you guys are doing this because you thought it was right but that doesn't justify drugging her and throwing her into some car and taking off with her. I'm grateful that she'll be with someone with experience, but don't let his happen again without telling us before you leave. Next time I won't be so understanding."

Her words carry a heavy weight of promise with the deliverance of a inked signature on a doted line.

A deep, rumbling voice breaks through, "That goes for both of us."

"Theo?" I mumble surprised, "You were there with her, where were you when she was attacked?" I ask, trying to reign in my accusation. It was best to go into this lightly.

His low chuckle rumbles through the phone, "I was babysitting." He says slyly.

"What does that mean?" I murmur suspiciously, the way he phrased that sounds eerily similar like deja vu. My mind goes to yesterday on the lawn. I file that away for later. "Why was Malia alone?"

Theo fires back, "Because she's a big girl, Scott. She can fight for herself, she doesn't need me or anyone else to take care of her. I already had a plan in motion to heal her. Kira and I have been worried about her for hours, afraid she was dead in an ally somewhere or worse because she wasn't answering her phone. This all could have been rectified if you guys had the decency to give us a heads up before taking off. We've been with her for years and should have been informed. She'll be scared when she wakes up, not knowing what's been going on around her while she was out. Malia hates the dark and now she's been trapped in her own personal darkness for who even knows how long. We get that you all are trying to help and we're glad that you care about her like we do. Don't take this small olive branch lightly, we don't usually extend this type of acceptance when it comes to a member of our pack."

"I'm sorry…" Allison tries to keep the peace as her soft, silvery voice flits through the phone, "We didn't mean to overstep, we just wanted to save her. We see where you're coming from, I would have been worried too if it had been me left wondering."

I bow my head in shame, I didn't know she was afraid of the dark. That kind of explains her night terrors.

Kira cuts to the chase, "Spare me the apologies and just make sure she's okay. When she wakes up, tell her that we're on our way. I'm relying on you guys to do everything you can to save her. Text me the address, we'll leave soon.

I choose not to argue, "I'll send you our location when we get there." I promise, looking over Malia, brushing her cheek with the back of my hand, "I'll take care of her, you have my word."

Kira snorts, "Your word means nothing until you live up to it. Don't forget to send your location." She threatens, hanging up with a resounding beep as the line goes dead.

"You didn't have to do that, Scott." Allison murmurs soft-spoken, "I needed to hear them out, their frustration made sense. I wish I would of had the balls to just call them and fess up before we left."

Stiles stays silent in the front seat.

"There's no point dwelling on it now, the damage is done. We can't take it back, all we can do is move forward."

Another hour dribbles by as I lay my head against the rain-splattered window painted in mist. The chill against my cheek keeps me awake. I feel movement in the spot beside me. Malia begins to stir.

Her groggy eyes flutter open, sleep-ridden in the corners as she wipes it away. Disoriented, she squints her eyes for the moment until Allison and I's faces come into focus. When she gains a little more clarity, she shoots from her seat, her head on a swivel like a frightened animal as she looks out the windows. "Where the hell are we?" She croaks out, her voice rough and husky from sleep.

"On our way to Beacon Hills." Allison supplies gently, still cautious of Malia's emotional state.

Her jaw clenches and eyes narrow, "You guys kidnapped me?"

I try to diffuse the situation, "We didn't intend for this, it just kind of happened."

She stares at me blankly, her hurricane of golden-brown hair framing her face wildly and her sharp brown eyes assessing me. I flinch under her scrutiny that leaves me reeling.

"Stop the car." She growls.

"Malia, we-" Allison starts.

"Stop the motherfucking car, dammit." She deadpans with a snarl, her once brown eyes teetering to an unpredictable, icy blue.

Stiles stops the car with a violent thud, our bodies flying forward and then thrown back onto the seat cushion. I feel the breath knocked out of me.

Malia climbs over a stupefied Allison and gets out of the car almost falling over on her unsteady feet. She sways for a moment and then regains her balance, wiping her sweaty forehead and closes the door harshly.

"What are you doing, Lia?" I shout exasperated, trying to get her back in the car.

She stops in her tracks and rakes me over with her eyes in slits, "Don't call me that." She says pointedly, stalking to the passenger side and throwing the door open. It smacks loudly against it's resistance causing Stiles to groan, "Shit, come on Malia, not the car."

She snorts, "Sorry." She ushers herself in and closes it with a little less force, "I'm riding beside Stiles the rest of the way."

His eyes widen, "Really?"

She hits him with a agitated scowl, "You've pissed me off the least today so you're at the bottom of my shit list right now." She snarks satirically, "Much to my chagrin, I don't know where we are so I guess it's best to stick with you guys until we get to our destination. Where we going exactly? A deserted warehouse? Rehabilitation? Or my personal favorite, a secluded spot in the woods?" She harps on, her annoyance spiking as it fills the car. "This thing hurts like a hell." Groaning, she clutches at her side. She looks sleepy and disheveled, her once sun-kissed skin now an ashen color as she coughs up a little blood.

"Ew Mal, that's gross. Here, let me roll down a window. Can't have you bleeding out in my car. I just got the interior redone." Stiles gripes, cranking the handle of his beat up old jeep that's barely hanging out by the threads of his heavy duty duct tape.

I hold myself back from jumping to her aid, knowing she'd shoo me off with an irritated growl. I shove down my worry, playing it off by focusing on my preexisting anger.

"I told you that my mom's a nurse, I thought she could help." I explain shortly, pulling out the bottle of pain meds from Ally's bag, "These should help?"

She chuckles, "You going to drug me again?" She accuses, satisfaction coloring her face when Allison look down in remorse.

"I promise they're just to help with the pain. You would be able to sniff out any sedatives in them." Allison says meekly.

Her brow arches before she snatches them and takes a sniff, "If this is a trick-"

"It's not." I assert coolly but truthfully. She looks at me for a second, that small part of her that wants to trust me still there. Her chocolate brown eyes soften, if only slightly, "I'm sorry we took you, we thought we were helping." I acknowledge through my frustration. My irritation is thinly-veiled and knowing her, she most likely sees through my transparency, but what she thinks of me right now isn't at the forefront of my mind. Getting her better is all the matters. We can talk about the rest later.

She bites her lip in apprehension but doesn't say anything. She seems to have calmed down a bit, "Thanks for the pills." She says lightly. Things aren't back to the way they were before, but it's progress. With one last lingering look, she turns back to face the front. Stiles peers at her, "You should put your seat belt on." He says conversationally.

She quirks a brow and coughs up another round of blood into a small tissue she found in the glove compartment, "I'm a werecoyote with enhanced healing abilities. You're a human, prone to accidents and mayhem. You should put your seat belt on." She sasses and Stiles chuckles back.

"You've always got to fight me, don't you?" He grins to himself, shaking his head. He keeps her distracted by keeping her talking. None of us wanted to witness her when she finally realizes the gravity of her situation.

"We wouldn't be almost-friends if I didn't." She murmurs with a hint of fondness while rolling her eyes. I capture the whole exchange through the rear view mirror.

They share a look and smirk in semblance of a truce.

After that, the easy atmosphere doesn't return fully, but it's better than before. And of course it's Stiles that brought it out of her. The thought makes my wolf antsy. My fingers dig into the seats, my breath coming out in short, angry puffs. Why isn't she mad at Stiles? He's just as much a part of this rescue plan as the rest of us.

"Since you're a grumpy little coyote today, you get control of the music." Stiles teases handing her the aux cord, "Just none of that lusty, The Weeknd music, we don't need any of those mating call pheromones stinking up my car." He shudders dramatically.

She erupts in a deep-belly laugh that makes her flinch as she leans over in discomfort. When she gains her bearing again, she mutters out a reply between small, weak breaths, "Who knew you were such a prude, Stilinski?" She lets out a little snort that I would usually find adorable. But right now, all I can focus on is how it's not directed at me. Each laugh from her feels like a twist of a knife in my gut getting deeper with each painful inch.

Allison and I sit in the back seat feeling isolated from the conversation. She plays with the ring on her finger with her eyes down and I pretend to not be listening like it doesn't bother me how well the two of them get along.

"It's called class, baby. And I've got it in spades." He says smoothly with goofy pursed lips.

Malia rolls her eyes and opens the bottle cap of pills while taking a whiff, "Smells like rusted pennies." She mutters with her nose scrunched in distaste.

"Don't be a wimp, Tate." I pester her with a ghost of a smile that's gone as fast as it appears. Still firmly pissed at her, I attempt to put that aside for now. When she's a little less testy, I'll bring it up. Hopefully in front of my mom where she'll be inclined to be more understanding.

She stares at me with wide doe eyes are a little red from the tears that built up from her coughing, "I'll work on that, McCall." She ends it with a tiny smile and I breathe a sigh of relief. We'll be okay eventually.

Downing a couple of the small, white pills she slumps back in her seat, scrolling through her play list. Rosyln by St. Vincent and Bon Iver slips through the speakers in it's quiet sensuality, the low thrums and rawness making a part of me ache to reach out and touch her just to make sure she's still there. I smile approvingly and she catches me through the rear view mirror before I quickly wipe it away and replace it with a muted frown. Her eyelashes flutter at the shift in dynamic and she looks away, but I catch her eyes a few times throughout the trip, the rich sienna-brown burning into me until I finally can't ignore it and meet her gaze. She holds it for a few seconds and then breaks contact. Her ambivalence feels like being marooned on an island, filling with hope at the sight of rescue until your calls for help fall on deaf ears and ships go passing by, bringing you back to reality. Her sweat and tears, a sea for me to swim and drown.

I'm not sure when it happened, the day I looked at her sun-drenched smile and realized that I wanted it for myself. Or when I became in tune with the way her mind spins and the way she speaks that unravels new questions about her and about myself. I notice the disgruntled expression she wears as she cups her side and I wince with her. I don't know when her Hell became my Hell.

I look down at my hands and silently curse. I hate this. Part of me wants to fight with her and scream and lash out, but the other wants to hold her and make her feel better. The battling emotions clash in my body, but the feeling of weariness and the need to distance myself wins out. I want to be near her, but I can't because she makes me so unhinged. That's the constant feeling with her, the joy of possibility in my veins but also coupled with the fear that it's all just smoke and mirrors. It comes and goes in waves, it always does.

The jeep rattles down the rickety road as we come upon my street, pulling up to my house. Nostalgia fills me and I realize how much I miss home and my mom.

I see my mom peeking through the window and my bad mood falls flat and is left on the pavement as I race to greet her at the door as I envelope her in a hug.

"Scott, sweetie." She giggles, "As glad as I am to see you, what are doing home? I thought you have classes today." She works out her thoughts.

I release her with a tired sigh, "Something happened." I propose, glancing over at Malia who looks shy as Stiles assists her out of the car, "My friend needs help."

"Well why did you come all the way here when there's a nurse on campus?"

I frown, "Not that kind of help."

The three move up the drive way and a smile tugs at Stiles' lips, "Hey Ms. McCall." He says sheepishly, balancing Malia's weight on one shoulder as Allison does the other.

"Stiles…" She greets with a weary smile. She turns back to me, "What have you guys gotten yourselves into now, Scott? College was suppose to be all of your tickets out of this supernatural drama."

I scratch the back of my neck and grimace, "Danger always finds us, mom. We're kind of a beacon for it, lasting effects of being in Beacon Hills for so long." I glance over at Malia who wears a soft, contemplative expression, "She's dying and I don't know how much longer she has."

THEO POV:

Liam came by a little while ago, we're going to try this whole "friends" thing. And a great way to do that is by starting with the basics, video games.

"You know dude, you kind of suck at this." Liam chuckles from his spot on the recliner.

"As if you're any better. Hey, that was a cheap shot!" I yell in protest as he takes out my star ship while I'm looking at him.

He smirks, "Not my fault you're distracted."

I eye him in his knee-length denim shorts and white muscle shirt that make his arms stand out, "Not my fault you're so sexy."

He sends me a playful glare and tries to punch me from his spot across from me. I catch his fist mid-strike and our eyes lock with a delicious heat behind it, "I should have you over to play video games more often." I murmur with my cool breath fanning his face.

Liam blushes and pulls away, "Shut up." He muses with the small smirk still on his face. I grin evilly as I take out his star ship in retaliation.

"Hey!" He barks amused, his blue-green eyes glittering like a clear sky.

I set the video game controller down and face him, "Lets go out."

His face heats up even more until it covers his face and neck, "Like out, out?" He mumbles, the context he's referring to evident in the way his eyes widen in surprise.

My smile is devilish and teasing as I lean over the couch into his personal space, "Would you like to go on a date with me, Liam?"

His eyes drop to my mouth and his breath quickens. Those stormy eyes darken temptingly, like he's actually considering my proposition. That blue reminds me of a late afternoon sky, a melting pot of gray and indigo. His eyes squeeze close and he pulls away just as I tease the thought of leaning further and capturing those succulent raspberry lips between my teeth.

His eyebrows scrunch together and he stares down at his lap in embarrassment. "I thought we were trying to be friends, Theo."

"We are." I explain, "A friendly outing to a clear area of the woods where we can get a head start on this photography project."

He whispers, "Can we keep the me following you and Malia out into the woods between us? I know she won't say anything because her and Scott are on the outs."

I shrug, "Only if you go with me to take the pictures and agree to be one of my little French girls." I tease as my eyes narrow and scan his toned, picturesque body. Boy is a fucking Greek god. His bronze-brown hair, pink lips, and pale blue eyes make me shiver. Liam has the whole tortured soul, starving artist vibe about him and everything about it makes me want to rip his clothes off and paint his naked body like my one true muse. He looks at me searching and I follow his trail as he takes me in like I'm a whole ass meal and he's hungry for a taste.

He gets up off the recliner breaking eye contact and my gaze immediately takes in his toned, perky ass that instantly makes my dick go rock hard. What I wouldn't give to dive right between those tight, little cheeks with my throbbing, thick…

I stop my train of thought when catches me staring, my tongue peeks out unconsciously and swipes across my bottom lip as I stare straight at his own erection.

Friends my ass.

He doesn't even seem ashamed about it, "All you want is to take some pictures? We had to do that anyways." He says with a saucy raise of his dark eyebrow.

I get up from my spot on the couch and my hulking frame almost swallows him, "Yeah, but now I get to ask you anything I want." I smirk deviously.

"I think I can handle anything you throw at me." He says with a hint of challenge. At this point we are most definitely not talking about photography anymore.

I brush some stray hair out of his face that flops over his eyes, "You sure… because I think you could really use a master to help you perfect your angles and… technique." I play along and I can feel his cock poking me through his pants.

Throwing caution to the wind, I rub him over his pants, "I think you'd really reap the benefits."

He lets out a soft moan and I let go of him, turning towards the door with a cock-tease grin, "You coming? I have to be back in an hour, Kira and I are going on a road trip."

Do friends usually do this kind of stuff? Liam stands flustered.

I smirk, "Only if you want us to. You're calling the shots here. Your pace. Your terms." My tone turns teasing, "Friends with benefits is always an option while you figure your shit out." I don't wait for his reply as I take off out the door.

We walk out the door and trek out to the woods near the apartments. It's day time so I'm not too worried about being sneak attacked by anything that thrives in the dark. My camera hangs casually from my neck and I can still smell Liam's arousal but I try to ignore it. The last thing we need is someone catching us fucking on the floor of the woods. I mean, I wouldn't mind much. I'd probably keep going, maybe get off on the idea of being watched, but I think Liam would object. Probably to the whole thing, fucking included. Bummer.

We're in a small clearing and the light is getting fainter, but a perfect sepia sun set makes the dark greenery look like a dream. Leaning against one of the trees like a scene from a cheesy 90's film, I run my fingers through my hair and pull out a cigarette to light. I snap a few test shots and set up my easel to catch the perfect lighting. This is an art, capturing something or someone's essence is no easy feat, It takes time and patience.

Liam stares at the cigarette in my hand, "You know those things will kill you, right?"

Placing the still-burning cigarette behind my ear, I push off the tree and come to stand before him. My height towers over him by those couple of inches causing Liam to fold submissively to my implicit power over him. I snake my hand around the back of his neck and he looks up at me, "Even though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear no evil…" I recite by memory, a loose translation of the words that have hung with me in times of worry.

Liam lightens up, "Is that your favorite verse?"

"Actually I'm an atheist." I grin devilishly. "Wait, don't move. This is perfect." I take a picture of him with black and white film, his face angled just right as the shadowy imprint from the tree leaves overlaps his profile. The contrast is striking and edgy, but the softness in Liam's eyes makes it a photo I'll treasure. I give him the okay to move and he continues talking.

"I don't know many atheists who can recite anything from the Bible."

"I do my research." I say, shrugging off his curiosity. I take a few more random shots of the landscape.

"Okay…" He begins, "Why do you care to learn about it if you don't believe?"

The air grows cold and so do I, "You ask a lot of questions, I thought that was my job."

Liam picks up his camera and takes a photo of me when I'm not looking, "This is a good one." He murmurs, looking at it softly and then transferring that softness over to me. I feel my heart stutter under his appraisal. "Do you believe in God, Liam?"

"I suppose so, I grew up in a Catholic family. I never really saw a reason not to, but I guess my faith isn't intimate. It's not my own, you know? We're you ever a believer?"

A shiver runs down my spine as the air seems to grow colder, "Maybe I was once." I mumble weakly, a small spout of foolish fragility tearing at my skin like dull razor blades, "My mom used to take me to Sunday school every weekend. I was a pretty sharp kid, so eventually I picked up a few things." I supply emotionlessly.

His interest peaks, "You said that you're a chimera" He starts off meekly afraid to push for more information, "What exactly does that mean?"

Metaphorical dark clouds hang over my head as memories and feelings zip through my brain. Flashes of shiny objects, smells, and sounds flood my senses and for a moment I think I'm back in that lab. Anger and fear fall off of me like black tendrils of smoke leaving my body. I take a drag from my cigarette, "Putting it simply, I'm a genetic abomination. When I was eight, these dudes in masks showed up in my bedroom. They made me do things; awful, deplorable things that I can never repent for. Not that I'd care to anyways, God abandoned me a long time ago."

Liam stands so still with his spine aligned in nerves, but slowly he sheds some of that caution and places a hand on my shoulder, "He hasn't forgotten you, you know. It's not too late to find him."

I shrug off his idea of comfort with a snort, "Why would I want anything to do with a God who let me rot in that hell hole?" I turn away from Liam and stare off into the darkening woods, "If there is a God, then he knew what would happen to me. He knew what they were going to do; how they defiled me, how they stripped me of any identity I had, how they beat me, broke me down, and prodded me with needles." I shudder at the thought and Liam stays quiet, "I prayed to him every night, that same verse falling from my mouth like a broken record player. Every night I cried out to him to save me. So where was He when I needed him?"

"I don't know." He mumbles feeling useless, "I don't know why He lets certain things happen to us but I have to believe that he sees us and in some capacity we will come out stronger underneath the ruins from which we fell." He says a little louder, a smidgen of conviction lacing his tongue. He moves over to me and I turn to look at him, "I have to believe that something good has to come out of this for you."

"Why is that?"

He shrugs,"Because underneath that dark bravado, I see a good person."

My heart pounds a little harder in my chest.

We're standing so close through our brisk exchange, his sky blue eyes fall captive in my pools of grey. He looks at me with a semblance of hope and a healthy dose of fear, maybe fear of falling or falling only to not be caught after putting everything out in the open. But with his contradicting emotions, one thing stands out. His dark lashes rest against his cheeks and he opens them against but this time he can't tear his eyes from my lips.

The floodgates open and I'm seeing what I want, a partner. I rake my eyes over the tenderness that swims in his eyes as he watches me run my thumb over his bottom lip. His breathing is staggering and he looks a little unsure, and that's when I decide that if he doesn't know what he wants, I would show him.

I grab him by the back of his neck and fall into his lips achingly slow, my teeth taking his bottom one hostage between my blunt, white teeth. He moans into my mouth and grabs me by the collar of my shirt, closing the gap just to get a little bit closer, but nothing could ever be close enough. My blue eyes flicker like a faulty lamp before interchanging with my human grey.

I mouth finds his over and over like a man dying of thirst, "I want this, now." I assert, looking up for a reaction.

His golden eyes flare up, "Take me, then." He challenges bravely, more confident than I've yet to see him.

I don't need anymore encouragement. With a flick of my tongue, I dive into him again.

KIRA POV:

I braid Lydia's languid, long strawberry blonde hair that cascades down her back like a waterfall. Her peaches and cream skin captures my attention, her freckle-splattered, bare shoulders soft and delicate through the tank top she's wearing. She hums in contentment when I run my fingers through the braid and start again, a pattern that has been going on for about twenty minutes now. The rhythmic motions are soothing, her sweet scent calming. She's the one good thing that's keeping me sane right now.

She turns to face me on her pink bed and her pouty lips purse, "You're worried about Malia, aren't you?"

My dark eyes shine onyx in the faint orange glow that envelops her room, "I'm so scared of losing her." I say truthfully.

Without Malia, I never would have made the strides that I have in my life. I never would of had the courage to be who I am today, an unapologetic lesbian with a penchant for pretty redheads.

Lydia takes my head into her lap and runs her fingers down my spine in slow, methodical strokes. "I can come with you if you want. I don't want you to be alone when you're so stressed. And I know you're mad at Allison, I get it. How she went about it was wrong, but her heart was in the right place."

I don't say anything for a while and just let her hold me. This type of vulnerability for me is usually fleeting. I've never been good at opening up to people until Malia. She was my first crush, the shining star in a sea of people that made me realize that I was attracted to girls. I never told her though, knowing she'd never feel the same way. But that's okay, I didn't need her too. And then came Cora Hale, Malia's hot cousin. That was just a heart break waiting to happen.

I met my match in pretty little Lydia, a girl with a sharp tongue and an attitude that may even surpass my own. I liked her high heels, flowing dresses, and red lip stick. She's the type of girl that you wait for.

I can sense her hesitance sometimes, but I don't take offense to it. I know she's attracted to me, that much is obvious by the way her expert mouth dominates mine when she's feeling confident. I love the way she nibbles on my lips or the way she looks at me like I'm something ethereal.

I lay on my back in her lap and smile up at her, "When did you realize that you were bi-sexual, Lyds?"

She chuckles and her eyes teeter off to the side, "I always had this feeling of being different in grade school. All the other girls would talk about how cute the boys were and how they were going to marry them one day and all I could wonder is why no one was talking about this pretty, blonde girl who sat in the back corner of the room. Her name was Emily and the first girl who ever caught my attention. This was in the third grade." She reminisces, grinning from ear to ear. "But as I went through school, no one seemed to think the same way I did and I never voiced my thoughts. I just followed the status quo. Then came high school and Emily moved away. My curiosity had hit it's peak and I decided to go to a gay bar a few towns over. Allison put on a happy face and went with me so I wouldn't be scared. She even took a few shots and smiled politely when this one dancer hit on her. She's always been my protector." She whispers, a gentleness in her voice that rivals that of a siren, her story-telling melodious and enthralling.

"Allison seems like a good friend." I mumble, thinking it over. Maybe I had been too hard on her. Maybe I didn't like the feeling of her worming her way into Malia's life. As petty as that sounds, I get super jealous when it comes to her. Not in a romantic way necessarily, just that the thought of her finding someone she cares about more than me or even Theo makes my insides feel like they're decaying. She's like my lifeline, her and Theo. We've been there for each other since the beginning. I can't imagine it any other way.

"I have to get over to Theo's place so we can take off. I promise to call you later before you go to sleep." I smile sweetly, pulling her in for a kiss.

She obliges happily, moaning into the kiss as she cups my face and pulls me closer until I fall on top of her with a laugh. "Are you trying to stall me?" I grin cheekily.

She smirks, "Is it really a crime to want you all to myself? I'm feeling a little frisky lately so either my period is coming or I've been eating way too much chocolate. Dark chocolate makes me extra horny."

I giggle at her admission and run our interlocked hands over my cheek, "You're cute."

She bites the inside of her cheek, "Cute enough for you to cuddle with me until I fall asleep?" She asks persuasively while batting her naturally long eye lashes.

I concede to that, "Only if I get to be the big spoon."

She narrows her eyes teasingly and pulls the covers up for me to crawl under. She plays with a magenta strand of my hair, "You say that as if I don't love being the little spoon."

"I know, I just like to hear you say it." I smirk, wrapping my dainty arms around her small waist. I kiss her cheek and wait for her to fall asleep. When she finally does I lay another butterfly kiss on her shoulder, "I'll see you in a couple days, Lydia."

MALIA POV:

Ms. McCall is a petite woman with a slim physique, a head of dark curls, and uncannily similar brown eyes that I recognize immediately when I chance a look over at Scott.

He looks so handsome when he smiles, crooked jaw, crooked smile, all falling unceremoniously into my crooked heart at the way he beams in his mom's presence. He hasn't smiled much lately, most of that being my fault. I almost forgot what it looks like. Before introductions can even be made, Scott blatantly informs his mother that I'm dying hoping she'd have a magical cure to fix me. What a great first impression, eh?

My hair is a lion's mane, my eyes probably disappear in my dark circles, and there may even be a bit of dried drool on face from when I was passed out. Great, just how every girl wants to look meeting her roommate's mother. Besides that, I've picked up on all these feelings that seem to have manifested lately whether we're screaming at each other or laughing with each other. The thing is that this situation wasn't suppose to have any strings attached, but now I'm in so deep and it scares me that I'm at a place where I wouldn't want it to be any other way. I stand a few feet away from him, I was even closer in the car. We were both there then and we are both here now, and yet I feel so lonely like the two of us are parallel lines and I'm missing the intersection; the chaos, the lingering looks, the secret smiles. I want it all back but we're still stuck in this place that we haven't settled yet. Am I mad at him for caring? No. Am I frustrated at the loss of control I've been feeling lately? Yes.

But it's not all his fault, I know it's not. I'm a complicated girl with complicated vices.

I shuffle out of Stiles' and Allison's grip and step forward awkwardly, "Hi Ms. McCall, I'm Malia, Scott's friend." I pause nervously to wet my chapped lips, "I understand if this is asking too much. I'm not even sure what bit me but it's draining me fast." I start to ramble, "This id probably a mistake, I should just go back. I'll survive this, I always find a way. I'm sorry to inconvenience you, this isn't your problem…" I mumble out as I take steps backward and almost trip over my boot-clad feet. I'm a little dizzy and I feel myself begin to drop. Stiles catches me before I hit the ground.

Scott races over and lifts me up bridal style, "You're taking my room." He says, leaving no room for argument. He carries me over the threshold and into the house. The aroma of warm honey and mocha hits my nose as soon as we get inside. Scott's warm arms envelop me and I think how I could melt into a puddle of goo right here and I wouldn't even mind. He sets me down at the table and watches over me. "Please don't scare me like that ever again." He pleads in a breathy voice.

"Would you miss me if I was gone?" I inquire, the meds from before starting to make me a little loopy. Geez, this is some strong stuff. I could get used to this.

He cracks a smile that I've been waiting for, "I mean… I would get the room to myself." He whispers for only us to hear in case his mom is listening in.

I smirk, "That'd be no fun."

Ms. McCall brings me a bottled water and some crackers to munch on with a kind smile. "Thank you, Ms. McCall." I try to say without stuttering over my words. I'm really sleepy.

Her grin widens noticing my tiredness, "I just hope I'm able to help you, Malia. You need some fluids in your body so try and drink the whole bottle. And- you can call me Melissa, sweet heart." She encourages nicely.

It must be great having a mom that actually cares whether you live or die.

Allison and Stiles settle on the couch with two mugs of hot chocolate while Stiles turns on Star Wars that's on the DVR. Allison's legs lay propped on his lap and Stiles squeezes them when an exciting part comes on.

Melissa takes a seat beside me and takes my pale hand into hers, "Why don't we set up a makeshift area for you in Scott's room. I can take a look at your bite and call in some reinforcements if need be. I have Deaton on speed dial. I also have some hospital equipment here that we can set up."

A small smile lights up my face, "Thank you for opening up your home to me, Melissa. I really appreciate your help." I say sincerely, this woman has a heart of gold. Or maybe this is just how parents are suppose to be. I had parents like this once. Henry is great and all but he's not the same since mom and Kylie were killed. I guess after that I kind of forgot what real parental love is suppose to look like.

She gives me a squeeze, "You're always welcome here, Malia."

I nod in thanks.

Scott scoops me up and carries me up the flight of stairs where the walls are littered with family photos and baby pictures of Scott. A particularly cute one captures my attention, naked baby Scott in a water basin, a yellow rubber duck in his hand as he smiles into the camera with his dimpled grin that till this day is just as charming as ever. "You were such a chubby little baby, how cute." I gush as we pass more.

He rolls his eyes with a huff, "Hey, I'm still cute." He argues lightly, those disarming dimples making an appearance.

We come to his room and it's spacious and covered in a deep green walls and mahogany floor boards that remind me of the woods. I sigh at the correlation and instantly feel safe surrounded by Scott and his things.

He lays me down gently on his king-sized bed and pulls the covers over me.

I decide to mess with him, "Who knew all it took was a little infection to get into your bed. If I had known, I would of tried something like this days ago." I muse and he chuckles.

"Now you have it all to yourself, how does it feel?"

I contemplate it for a moment, "Satisfying." I say cheekily. Yep, the meds are definitely kicking in.

He finds amusement in my candor but he still seems to be holding back.

He picks up a rag from his bedside table and goes into his bathroom to wet it. He comes back and presses it to my forehead and brushes the stray pieces of hair out of my face. The longing look he holds throws me for a loop and I spout out the first thing that comes to mind, "You seem sad."

"I am." He deadpans.

With a bit of apprehensive and some drug-induced confidence, I press on, "Did I make you sad, Scott?"

He rubs the back of his neck uncomfortably, "This is a conversation for another time, Lia." He backtracks, "Sorry, I know you told me not to call you that anymore." He frowns, getting up to leave.

"Wait" I grab his hand, "I like when you call me Lia, I was just mad. I didn't mean it. I felt like my choice was being taken away and I lashed out. I'm kind of a reckless person, I survive on impulse. I was being ungrateful and a bit of a bitch and I'm sorry. Also for breaking my word." The seriousness of the conversation begins to sober me up a little bit.

He sighs and grips at his hair like he wants to pull it out by the roots. Finally he explodes, "I just don't get why it rubs you the wrong way that I care about you, Malia. I know you care about me, I've seen it. We've talked about things. You've shared things with me that I'm sure weren't easy to relinquish. What's so wrong with me wanting to protect you?"

I feel my emotions building but I try and stay calm and detached, "If I let the feeling in, I'm afraid I'll like it too much. I don't want anyone to have that kind of power over me, Scott. Don't you get it? I don't want to rely on you or anyone. I don't like feeling powerless.

"Asking for help doesn't make you weak." He argues, "I get that you have strong beliefs and that you are capable of handling yourself. You're so powerful. You're a bad ass, compelling, wildly amazing feminist who I-" He silences himself before he finishes.

"Who you what?"

He cups my cheek, "Who I can't seem to shake. You're like a fever, woman. I can't get rid of you. Not that I want to." He explains, cocoa brown eyes exploring my face.

My breath quickens, "You're beautiful, you know."

He blushes with an amused grin, "Am I?"

A serene smile overtakes my features, "It's those eyes; so soft and warm. If you were a blanket, I'd buy you. Or if you were a chocolate bar, I'd eat you."

His boisterous laughter fills the room, "I'd eat you, too." He says with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Kira and Theo are coming by the way. They should be here in a couple of hours."

"Mmmm" I mutter intelligibly as I relax into his comforter. "Are we okay?"

Scott expression turns grim, "I think there's still things we need to talk about, but not right now. My mom is coming up to check your bite and hook you up to a heart monitor so we'll know if you're getting too weak. I'll be here the whole time."

I relax a little at that. Scott sits with me for a while and I try to take a nap but sleep never finds me. Melissa comes in dragging a scary looking machine with her and a dark-skinned man dressed in scrubs enters the room. Shit. This is the Deaton. Of course it is. How could I be so careless to not remember the name when Melissa mentioned him. His family has been loyal emissaries for the Hales for generations, though he may have severed those ties when most of them died in the fire and all that was left was Peter, Derek, and Cora. He knows exactly who I am and who my father is.

He looks me over with recognition, "It's Malia Tate, isn't it? Pleasure to meet you, I just wish it was under different circumstances." He turns to Scott, "How you doing, Scott? We miss you down at the animal clinic. The dogs wouldn't even eat for a few days after you left. You we're they're favorite feeder." He says good-naturedly, however, still scanning me over in the corner of his eyes. Why didn't he out me?

I'm already on edge when Melissa hooks me up to the heart monitor. She takes the bandage off my wound and tries not to cringe at the smell. Deaton takes a careful look, "I'm not familiar with this bite, I'll have to run some tests. But for now, I have a salve here that should stop the infection from getting any worse. It kind of stalls the process, but it's only a temporary fix. We have to figure this out and fast."

He applies the cream over the wound and I cringe at the pain. My insides feel like their swelling and bursting at the seams ready to combust. I take slow, shallow breaths and Scott rubs my back as he tries to take some of the pain away. With the heart monitor in tack, it spikes at each point of pain. Suddenly, my body feels foreign. I taste the coppery-metallic feeling of blood on my tongue. It starts with my fingers and works it's way down to my toes. I begin to convulse, foam forming in my mouth as I quiver and my body moves without my permission. I'm so scared but I can't call out for help. Scott yells to me but he sounds so far way.

My vision is fuzzy and I think I'm going into shock. The last thing I hear is a flat line as my world seems to crumble around me.

Am I dead?


	7. Antique Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Murder Song (5, 4, 3, 2, 1)" By AURORA

SCOTT POV:

The flat line rings through my ears like a whispered secret. Chills fall down my spin in frosted tear drops, an unnatural shiver igniting every nerve of my body. Malia's whole life summed up in that deafening stillness that follows. But I refuse to accept that.

I act on instinct and begin pumping on her chest, my brown eyes most likely crazed as a deranged howl echos off my lips. I turn to face my mom and I feel the monster boiling to the surface, a red influx flooding my eyes, "Mom" I croak, "Save her, please!" I beg, maintaining my rhythm, hoping to start her heart again. I push hard and deep, a few of her ribs giving a way a bit under the pressure.

Mom gasps and rushes to the other side of the room and grabs the electric defibrillator. She touches them together to create a spark and races over after everything is hooked up. The back of her hand grazes Malia's cool forehead, "We're not giving up on you yet, Sweet heart." She moves with urgency and grace, "Everybody get back! Clear!" She commands, shoving the electrical pads into Malia's chest. Her willowy frame convulses at the impact, her body lifting violently off the bed. I can still hear the ringing in my ears, all sounds feeling like background noise. Her back thuds against the bed when mom tries again. Same result, nothing.

"I can save her." I say, already typing in Derek's number into my phone, "He gave up his Alpha status to save Cora when she was dying, I can do the same thing."

"Scott, do you know what you'd be giving up?" Stiles rationalizes, always the one to think through every decision.

I think it over and a little reluctance and doubt begins to set in, "I'd give it all up for her if there's no other way." I reply honestly. Brutally. "If there was any other option, I'd take it. But I don't know if she has that kind of time. She needs someone now. I have to do something."

I'm so scared, scared of all the things I'd miss about her; sharp claws and beguiling lips, fierce brown eyes, and the whimsical melody of her laugh. She's a typhoon; gorgeous and damning but now she is dying and I'm about to walk into her storm, half-cocked with shadows of a prayer on my lips.

I take hold of her broken body in my arms that's barely gone cold and I pull at every sliver of my soul that bleeds for her. I can do this. I can do this.

My nose starts to bleed scarlet trails down my cupid's bow and I feel it leaking from the corners of my eyes and ears. I scream in pain but I keep pulling until Stiles jerks me away from her. Malia's body falls limp on the bed, splatters of my blood marring her clothes and a splotch lands on her cheek that dripped from my nose.

"Scott, you're going into this recklessly and you're going to get yourself fucking killed!" Stiles yells in my face, "What are we suppose to do if you end up offing yourself trying to save her?"

I think about what he said and he's right. I have a duty to my pack, I'm their leader. But who would I be if I just let her die?

"I wouldn't be doing this if we had another choice. If she just mysteriously dies, there would be an investigation that we wouldn't be able to explain." I turn my gaze to Allison, "We protect those who cannot protect themselves, right?"

My bleeding, shifty eyes move back and forth between her and Stiles. I sigh, a strangled noise crawling out my throat.

My moping best friend fumes as he stomps petulantly over to a raging Allison who's hand covers her mouth in horror and sadness.

Deaton shuffles around to our side just as Allison lets out a strangled sob when she sees Malia lying there and Stiles stands stock still, his honey eyes looking lost. Deaton whips to face them, "Get him out of here." He says calmly while nodding in my direction, "We can't let his emotions get in the way. He can't be here while we do this."

A warning snarl slips between my furled lips. My canines peek out with their razor sharpness, "I'm not leaving without her."

Stiles tries to reign me in and I shove him off, "I'm not going anywhere, she needs me!" I demand irrationally that draws out into a watery plea, "I don't want her to wake up and think I abandoned her."

Mom grabs my face between her hands and runs her thumbs over my cheeks, "Honey, if you want to see her alive, you have to go. I know this is asking a lot, but you're just going to have to trust us." She states firmly, her brown eyes holding compassion but also finality.

Allison puts her hand on my shoulder, her and Stiles attempting to drag me out of the room but my eyes never leave her; her heart-shaped face, blue-hued eyelids, and disheveled golden-brown hair. I'm terrified that the last time I'll see her is like this, lying dead on my sheets.

"Come on, Scott." Allison says teary-eyed, "Let them do what they need to do, we promised Kira and Theo."

I don't really remember the trek down the stairs, the conversation that was bound to of happened in order to ease my mind, or the minutes after that drone on. The winding clock seems to have stopped, each tick moving in slow motion like spokes on a wheel that refuse to turn. Seconds could of gone by. Minutes. Hours. But then I hear the silver lining in the midst of the white noise, a heart beat. Faint, but it's there.

I run up the stairs two at a time with Allison and Stiles following behind me. I burst through the door and there she is. She looks better. More alive. Not great, but better. Some color has returned to her cheeks and deep frown lines sit as crevices in her skin.

Allison grabs my hand and Stiles stays at my side as we near the bed, "Is she-" I begin but my mom knowing me so well already has an answer waiting for me, "We got her heart started again, she's stable. But… we can't get her to wake up. She hasn't moved since we brought her back."

I roll her explanation around in my head. Looking at her, I wait for her to go on. I wait for any indication of when Malia will wake up, what's wrong with her, when I can talk to her.

"Scott," Mom pulls me into a hug resting her chin on my shoulder and pulls back, "Malia's in a coma. We don't know why or for how long. Her vitals are within normal range and nothing seems to be physically wrong with her besides the bite. It could be shock or the seizure she experienced, maybe even some emotional trauma she's not ready to face yet. We're on her time now and all we can do is wait. But in the mean time, Deaton has someone he called in to help."

On cue, Peter Hale frantically pushes through the door with a look of panic breaking through his careful facade. He sees Malia and all color drains from his face, "What the hell happened to my daughter?"

MALIA POV:

White. Clean. A blank slate.

I'm standing in a room that I know shouldn't be able to exist, a place inside my mind that doesn't seem to fit. A space so clean shouldn't belong inside someone like me. A flash of unnatural light beams bright against my eyes, so much that it burns.

An opaque figure materializes before me.

It's me.

"You look like shit." Vision-me simpers drolly.

My head spins, "This is way too Orphan Black for me," I squint through the blinding light radiating off of her-me-whoever, "So this is what it's like to actually see yourself in person… is my hair always that messy?"

Other-me laughs, her gleaming white teeth shining pearly, "Is that really the question you want to ask?"

"Touche" I purse my lips with a shrug, "Who are you… and why am I seeing you? Why are you here? Am I dead?"

She chuckles, shaking her head, "I'm you, but better. Stronger. Wiser." She sniffs and looks me over with hooded eyes, "Better skin, too." She walks closer and the startling similarities make my skin crawl, "I'm you. You're me. Just a different version. From a different time. Different reality all together."

I struggle to wrap my head around her explanation, "Like past lives?" I cock my head over one shoulder, "And you'll have to forgive me, my skin care routine hasn't been my first priority." I say with a bit of snark, lifting my shirt to expose my butchered flesh, "Clean and Clear didn't have a miracle cure for this."

Other-me chuckles. "You're feisty, glad some things haven't changed. And to answer your question, it's more like coexisting universes. What's not happening here is most likely happening somewhere else. Things and people you've dreamed of seeing, being… fucking, it's probably happening in parallel worlds to another version of you and I." She brushes a piece of hair from my face, "And no, you're not dead. You were, but Scott's mom brought you back, I always liked her." She smiles fondly, "Technically you're in a mind-warp, a sort of limbo."

I groan, "Just my luck. I spent my whole life wondering whether or not there's even a Heaven or Hell and now I see that I don't even qualify for either. I'm stuck in purgatory talking to a snide version of myself."

"So dramatic. How do you know that you're simply not just another version of me?"

My fierce brown eyes scan her distrustfully. It's scary when you know the sad truth of what you're capable of to a point that you don't even fully trust yourself. The irony is not lost on me. "You know Scott… back wherever you came from?" I start feebly. The thought that maybe somewhere else, Scott and I are different. Maybe we're the same. Maybe we fall in sync better, we don't butt heads, but we challenge each other in the same way we do now. Maybe there's the same passion, heat, and quiet intimacy that burns hot in between us. Can something like that transcend time and space?

"I know Scott." She begins softly, swiping her thumb over her bottom lip, "He's my home. I wouldn't be who I am without him."

Fear creeps up my spine as I catch onto the hint that she's leading to but I ask anyways, "He's important to you?"

She smirks softly with a heavy sigh, "He's the best parts of me. The second I tried to tell myself I wasn't in love is the moment I realized I was."

I let that seep in, the finality of it. The possibility of it. The knowing that seeing Scott in a state of rapture and fire makes me burn so good, the way his fingers graze against my skin. Tenderly, thoughtfully. I love the way it burns. I remember the feeling when he held me in the car. I couldn't speak, but I knew it was him there. I let my mind wander over his tired shoulders, his inky brown eyes, and the thought-provoking ease he holds when it comes to wanting to protect me.

"There's others," She tacks on, I've met another one of us. That version actually dated Stiles first." She chuckles when I make a face, "It didn't work out though. He was taken by these creatures called Ghost Riders who erased him from existence for while. In the meantime, she started slowly falling in love with her Scott."

"You've met others?" I balk, the very idea seems so surreal. But the thought of infinite Scotts running around somewhere makes me smile for some reason.

"Yes, and there's always a running theme. Every version of us always finds their way back to Scott. It always comes back to him." She catches on to my trepidation, "Even if you don't see it now, Scott will always be there for you whenever you're ready."

The thoughts and feelings sink into my stomach and I shove it to the back of my mind for another time. I stand vulnerably defiant, a bold oxymoron and let my curiosity take over, "Why are you here?"

She smiles brightly, "To help you get out of here. There's stuff you're repressing: emotions, feelings… memories that are stopping you from waking up. I'm here to rectify that."

"What do you-" Before I can finish, she touches my arm and I feel a sharp zap in the center of my chest. I'm back in the woods from the other night. I'm watching a scene unfold before me.

The woods sit still and a sordid black. Every tree looks like the one before it. I can hear Theo and Liam flirting not too far off. I'd known he was following all along, I just thought I'd be funny to let it happen anyways. I guess it was a part of the little theory of mine I had going, how long it would take for Liam to get over himself and just give into his desires. Theo loves butt stuff, he could only hold out for so long.

The wind rustles the leaves beneath my feet and I get that same feeling of being watched I'd felt outside the dorms. Anxiety falls down my spine and tickles my toes. The hairs stand on the back of my neck as I feel a phantom touch of cool breath evaporate on my skin. Someone is behind me.

I turn and there's no one there. Of course there's nothing there.

A shadow flies by in the corner of my eye. My gaze whips on command, following but missing it each and every time. Two shadows circle around me in fitful disarrays, fast and blurry to a point that I can't keep up. My body turns at odd angles, just to get a glimpse of what I'm up against. Just a clue of who went after Emery and butchered her like a pig for slaughter. I just need a snap of a picture, a gap in between those seconds the shadows flutter around me. All I need is a face.

"Ahhhh!" I groan. Something sharp and lethal grazed my side, the skin erupting in prickling sensations. Heat swells with the onslaught of a hot flash and the raging burn feels deep within my bones. "Fucking hell." I sigh, on the defense. I can sense them closing in on me and for a moment I wish I had listened to Scott. I could call to Theo, but I wouldn't do that. His safety means more to me than my own.

The sound resembling a gunshot cuts through the night and the shadows flee at the noise. I thought about going after them but thought better of it, knowing I was no use in this state. I rip a piece of my shirt and press it against the bite to relieve some of the pain. Once I gain my composure, I make the trek back in the direction I heard the noise. Theo and Liam had to be close.

Other-me grabs a hold of my wrist and we're back in the white room.

I shudder at the memory as my body wracks with unflinching anxiety.

"You don't know what bit you, do you?"

"No" I mumble, "But they smelled familiar… like a distant memory or something." I disclose, unconsciously running my fingers over my wound. "I can't remember."

"But now you have something to go on, a feeling… intuition. Think harder, Malia." She grabs my hand and I'm thrust into another hollow-like memory that I wish was only a dream.

I'm nine years old. In tatters, stitching my life back together, learning to cope.

Peter hangs around a lot, I think he's trying to make up for the eight years he lost. I heard the whole story, the hellish mother who hated her spawn from conception, the dawning thought that she could maybe love me one day never crossing her mind. Peter had his mind wiped by a headstrong Talia who thought she was doing what was best for me, and maybe she was. Because of her, I got a family that I wouldn't trade for the world, but I lost them all the same. Maybe if I had grown up in the Hale family, my mother and sister never would have been slaughtered in my name. But then again, they never would have been my mother and sister to begin with.

Peter sleeps on the couch sometimes, we're getting to know each other. Him and Henry have formed somewhat of an understanding. My dad has always been able to sniff out bad intentions, and it seems like he's come to like Peter over the past year and a half. I've met my cousin Derek and Cora. Derek's a bit broody for my taste, but Cora has just the right amount of bitchiness that I can respect. We blend well together. And with that also came my cousin Laura. Where Derek was the evasive relative, Cora the best friend I always needed, Laura was the big sister I always wanted. The one I'd always hoped to be for Kylie.

My mind moves in fast forward as the vision shifts to one of the worst days of my life.

"Laura's dead." Cora cries into my shoulder. She'd snuck through my window and beat her small 10 year old fists on the glass. She now sits with her head in my neck as her fresh, wet tears bleed through my t-shirt.

Wetness pools in my eyes and I grab fistfuls of her shirt in my weak, numbing fingers, "This better not be some kind of sick prank, Cora. If this is a lie you better tell me." I sob, fresh angry lines left in the wake of my tears that dribble down my face. She shakes her head and splutters a watery whisper, "She's gone, Malia."

My nine year old body recoils and my jaw clenches in uncontrollable rage, the hot, angry tears continuing to fall, "What happened?"

"Peter… he… he went into a frenzy. He still gets fits of irrationality and ptsd from the fire that took the rest of our family. He went out into the woods to calm himself down, he didn't want you to see him like that. He just- he didn't know what he was doing-"

"Cora" I deadpan, "What- did he do?" My gilded eyes blaze like honeyed whiskey as I stare back at her determined for her to tell me.

"He- he tore her apart. He's the Alpha now."

"So your Peter is just as much of a screw up as mine." Other-me ponders, "He may be a monster, but he'll get better. At least mine did. I have to believe that there's some good in him."

"I don't know if he can be saved. Or if I even want to save him." I mutter begrudgingly, "He's the reason I've got these." I say flashing my blue eyes.

"What did he-"

"A story for another time." I cut her off. "It's time for me to go back."

She puts her hands out in a welcoming gesture, "By all means, go back."

"I thought you were suppose to help me get out of here, I don't know what to do."

"Can you hear him?" She whispers longingly, "God, he sounds just like my Scott. I miss him."

"Hear who?" I ask confused, I don't hear anything.

"It's time for me to go." Other-me states, taking careful steps back into radiating light that somehow I hadn't even noticed was there again. She's starting to fade from view and I try running after her but it's like I'm moving in quicksand. "Wait, you didn't tell me how to wake up!"

"Listen to him, Malia." She says gently, "Follow his voice… it'll always lead you back home."

"What does that mean?" I shout in worry.

"Trust him…." Her voice fades away until she disappears in a blaze of glory and I'm left alone again twiddling my thumbs in the stark white room that seems to have grown smaller.

"Fuck." I grit out, running my fingers through my tousled hair.

"Follow his voice… it'll always lead you back home."

SCOTT POV:

"What the hell did you say?"

Peter glares tauntingly, "I know school isn't your strong suit, Scott, but I thought you'd be able to keep up. I asked what happened to my daughter?"

I snarl at him as I stand protectively over Malia, "You're lying, she's never mentioned you."

A slip of sadness flashes in his eyes before he wipes it away but it's too late, I'd seen it. "Malia and I have had our falling outs, but she is indeed my flesh and blood. Ask Deaton, he's the one who called me."

I turn to face Deaton and wait for him to invalidate his claims. There's no way she could come from him. Malia is wild, unpredictable, and a bit abrasive, but she is no Peter Hale. I refuse to believe that someone as good as her could come from someone as sadistic as him.

"It's true, Scott." Deaton says calmly but it feels like a roaring in my ear. "Malia was adopted by Henry Tate who she considers her real father. But Peter here is her biological father." He states matter-of-fact.

I run my fingers over my crooked, stubbled jaw, "She couldn't-she wouldn't… she had to of heard Stiles and I talking about him on move-in day. We were in the other room but it's not like she wasn't listening." I mutter under my breath.

Stiles places his arm around my shoulder, "Dude, she couldn't of known who we were talking about. Peter's a very common name, no offense." He gabs, throwing a look of disdain in the older man's direction, "Actually, full offense, just because I don't like you." He snarks and turns back to me, "We can't crucify her for who her father is."

In my mind, I know that's he's right. It's just this on top of her getting hurt by going behind my back just adds fuel to the fire of my subdued anger. My nostrils flare. I screw my eyes shut and pinch the bridge of my nose, "Can you guys give me a moment alone with Peter?"

Allison places her hand on my chest, "Scott, don't do anything stupid." She whispers in my ear in some semblance of privacy though were both aware we have none, "You don't know the circumstances of their relationship. Don't give Malia a reason to hate you when she wakes up. I've been a bit of the receiving end, losing her trust sucks."

I run my nose through her hair with her standing a few inches shorter than me. I hear a car pull up in front of the house, it must be Kira and Theo.

"Keep them downstairs for a few minutes, please." I mumble to Stiles who salutes and him and Allison make their way to my bedroom door. My mom and Deaton follow suit, but my mom sends a warning glare Peter's way before moving.

He reads her hostility with a smile, "You know, Melissa. We never did go on that second date." He revels in her discomfort, smirking.

She smiles sweetly, "I don't date men in v-necks." She retorts with a bit of bite, waltzing out the door with her head held high. Her recoils at her jab, having the audacity to watch her teasingly as she leaves.

"She's tasty. You think you could put in a good word for me? I really would be interested in that second date."

I run up on him and shove him against the wall, making the dry-wall groan in protest. "Don't fucking look at my mother like that ever again." My eyes flash blood red, "Do you understand?" I threaten with a hiss, knocking his head back until I hear a crack.

"Such an angry boy you are, Scott. I don't know if I approve of the feelings you have for my daughter." He sneers mockingly.

"I guess it's a good thing I don't give a shit about your approval." I smirk, "Even better that Malia doesn't seem to give a shit about you. She's mentioned Henry by name, adoration clear in her voice. I wonder if that fondness extends over to you as well."

Peter's sneer turns bleak and he snarls, "I don't want you near my daughter."

"It's not up to you."

"You'd have to deal with me." He challenges.

"I don't mind protecting her from the likes of you. She deserves better than you."

He snaps, "You imbecile, you can ride high and mighty on your True Alpha bullshit title, but one thing will never change. You can't protect Malia from me, she is me. I'm a part of her. Remember that when you look into her eyes." He says in a crude, tantalizing murmur that's like a cheese grater in my ear.

I pull back my arm and sucker punch him in the side of the head, effectively knocking him out, "You're done talking."

I scoot him over with the toe of my boot and open the door. I can hear the commotion and the high-pitched shrieks of an unstable Kira ready to go bat-shit on Allison while Theo tries to calm her down. "What the fuck do you mean she died?!" Kira bellows in a deep-hollowed out voice that doesn't belong to her, but her Kitsune. Her eyes blaze a fiery orange and her whole body engulfs in a similar colored aura. "I'll burn this place to the ground, just watch me." She threatens menacingly.

I round the corner and she's on me like a bloodhound, "Where is she, Scott? She better be fine or I swear to god I will flay your body and skin you alive." Her voice vibrates eerily low with Theo on her tail. He tries to reign her in and he urges me to answer her with the bulging on his eyes, sending her a side-eye.

Theo steps in at my hesitation, "Just bring us to her, please." He speaks calmly and I nod at him in appreciation.

"She's upstairs in my room." I say, leading them up the stairs with a weak wave over my shoulder. "She's in a coma right now. My mom was able to revive her when her heart gave out. The infection worked her into a seizure which we're thinking escalated into a heart attack."

I step over Peter without a care in the world. Theo and Kira seem to do the same after they look him over only mildly concerned, "You guys called him?" Theo questions.

"Deaton did, actually. I just found out that he's Malia's father. Another thing she forgot to mention." I mutter still noticeably angry. My worrying has overshadowed most of my frustration, but the feeling is still there festering under the surface. I wonder when it will bubble over. I fear what I'll do when it does, not that I'm worried about hurting Malia. I'd never hurt her. Hurt myself by punching a hole in the wall? Definitely plausible.

"She didn't owe you an explanation." Kira bites out.

"Yeah she did, Kira." I fume, "Whether you like it or not, Malia and I are roommates and we've bonded. A connection has been formed. She told me about her mother and sister, so why couldn't she tell me about him?"

"Maybe she thought you'd react like a hothead, which you are. All you're doing is proving her right. Her caution was justified, she didn't know you well enough to just go spilling all her secrets just because you guys want to bone each other."

My face heats up at her admission, "I see your point." I sigh, "Look I don't want to fight. Go spend time with Malia, I know you guys must have been worried sick about her and I'm sorry I contributed to that. I just wanted to help her. I know we haven't known each other for as long as she's known you two, but she's important to me."

Kira's face softens and Theo puts his hand out in a peace offering for me to shake, "I can respect that."

Kira gives me one last look before her and Theo move around me and sit on my bed with each of them holding one of Malia's hands. I walk out of the room to give them some privacy, but I can't make myself stay far away for too long.

Allison distracts me with a warm cup of mint tea that she places in my hands. We sit on the stairs together just outside my bed room in silence. I'm the first to break it.

"You're unnerved, I can feel it. What's on your mind, Ally?"

Her cocoa eyes lift to meet mine, "I can't help thinking that this is all my fault. Maybe Theo and Kira's plan would have been better. Maybe she wouldn't of died. Maybe she wouldn't be in a coma right now." She lists off rampantly as her voice rises an octave. I place my hand on hers that shakes around her tea mug, "You're being too hard on yourself. You acted on instinct, you couldn't of known what would happen." I reason.

She shakes her head while setting down her mug, "What if she never wakes up and I don't get a chance to apologize? We we're making strides, Scott. You know Lydia is my best friend but something about Malia is so relatable. I see myself in her and her in me sometimes. I notice things about her that I envy: her strength, her unwavering fearlessness, her relentlessness. Whatever small friendship we formed, I don't want to lose that."

I bring her head to rest on my shoulder, "Neither of us are going to lose her. I won't let that happen."

"Kira ripped me a new asshole," She chuckles, "I probably shouldn't of started off by telling her that Malia died."

"Bad judgment call, Ally." I say through a tight-lipped jaw that offsets my crooked jaw, making it more pronounced.

"You like her." She states plainly and I just stare at her dumbly, "You like her a lot. You don't look at her the way a friend looks at another friend." She presses lightly, no trace of jealously in her tone.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm and nod my head, "I feel like I've known her for a long time and it's only been a little over a week. I can't put my finger on it, she's just so familiar." I sigh, "It's like my body knows her. My eyes find her in a crowd. She makes me laugh- a lot." I reminisce feeling my dimples peek out.

Allison listens eagerly with a delicate smile, "You should tell her how you feel."

I chuckle at that, "Seems like you and Malia think alike. She told me the same thing about you."

"She's oblivious then. I told her at the Wonder Woman premiere that you're over me, you just hadn't realized it yet. I think now you have." She ponders, giving me that look that use to make me weak in the knees.

I think about what she said before I rationalize it into words, "There will always be an echo of you. I will always feel something for you, you were my first love." I say easily, shyly. "But it's not the same kind of love as before. It's practical, easy, laid-back. Natural, but not all-consuming anymore. You were and still are one of the best things that has ever happened to me and I'll be stand by you if Isaac makes you happy."

She ducks her head, "You noticed that, huh?"

My face breaks into a nervous smile, "Not at first, but it came unavoidable. I was mad at first, but I realized how dumb that was. Malia told me it was okay to be upset, but I knew that I shouldn't be."

"I didn't want to hurt you." She says in explanation, knowing Isaac and I had become thick as thieves after he parted from Derek's pack.

"It's okay." I promise.

She wraps her arms around me in a hug, "We'll always be okay, Scott." She vows in her silvery voice. And I believe her.

Stiles rounds the corner, walking in at the end of our conversation. "I want to see Malia, everyone is hogging her and it's my turn." He complains lightly, moving up the stairs right between Allison and I. The two of us look at each other and follow him up the stairs, "I don't know if that's a good idea. Kira is a bit temperamental. Theo barely calmed her down earlier."

"I think I can handle an angry woman, Lydia's on my ass about something all the time." He rolls his eyes with unguarded bitterness.

He pushes through the door and trips over a still unconscious Peter Hale. "You just left him here?" He questions, rubbing his sore elbow that hit the ground first on his fall.

I shrug, "I was going to take him outside but trash pick-up doesn't come around until tomorrow."

"Oh burn!" Stiles laughs, holding his hand out for a fist-bump. I dab him back with a smirk, settling over on the bean bag that sits next to Theo.

"Could you two idiots shut up, I'm trying to put good omens out so Malia will wake up faster." Kira snaps, wafting burning sage all around my room and in close proximity to Malia. We all look at her like she's crazy except for Theo who waves off our curiosity, "She believes that she was a witch in another life. I'd just settle on bitch but she would take that as a compliment." He muses and Kira rolls her eyes affectionately. She blows out the sage and puts in back in her bag. Sitting back down, she takes Malia's hand in hers and kisses her knuckles as her eyes water, "We need you to come back to us." She whispers brokenly.

The rest of us stand by and watch, not one of us ever witnessing this softer side of Kira before.

LIAM POV:

Theo left a few hours ago and honestly, I already miss him. I walk campus alone like a little loner freshman. I see a taco stand up ahead and my stomach growls on command. Looks like tacos it is.

"Liam?" A hear a voice behind me. I turn and it's Noora from the LGBT club the other day.

"Hey Noora." I smile, "I'm just on my way to get a taco, you want to join me?"

She smiles brightly, "Sure, I'd love to."

We stand in line and make small talk until we reach the front, "Hi what will it be today?" The scruffy haired ginger behind the stand smiles a little too friendly. He looks me over with not-so-discreet interest, "I'm Andrew, by the way."

I mumble a shy hello and glance over at a smirking Noora, "Four crispy tacos, well done, with everything on them for me and the lady." I say, gesturing to Noora so he'd know I'm paying for both, "And can I get a few hot sauces to go with that?"

"You can get anything you want-"

"Liam." I supply less enthusiastically. I see this guy who is actually pretty attractive, a full red beard that makes him look older, but all I can think about is Theo. This guy's mediocre suave just isn't doing it for me.

"Here you go Liam." He says, handing me the tacos and intentionally grazing his thumb over my fingers. I hand him cash and he shakes his head, "It's on me."

"Thanks man." I smirk, turning to the nearest table and Noora follows behind me giggling the whole time.

"That guy wanted to hit it so bad." She continues her laughing fit, "He was really laying it on thick." She teases playfully in her deep, Norwegian accent. Did I forget to mention that she's a foreign exchange student?"

I chuckle at her cute laugh, handing her two of the tacos, "He's not my type."

She wiggles her eyebrows and flips her shoulder-length platinum blonde hair, "So what is your type? Tall, dark, and handsome all wrapped in a leather? Your boyfriend Theo is pretty sexy, I see why you weren't interested in that guy." She smiles jokingly through her red-painted lips. "I miss my boyfriend William back in Oslo. He's coming to visit soon."

I take a piece a huge bite out of my taco as an excuse not to comment. She takes the hint and digs into her food. We sit in a comfortable silence for a while, the only sounds being the crunching of our taco shells and the licking of sauces off our fingers. I wipe my mouth with a napkin and let out a belch. I quickly cover my mouth in apology and she just laughs.

"Hey Liam."

I turn and see Lydia making her way over, "Mind if I join you guys?"

"Not at all." Noora pipes up, scooting her books and backpack over for Lydia to sit.

Her strawberry blonde hair falls in a loose braid, "You look pretty, Lydia." I compliment and her face lights up, "Thanks." She smiles sweetly.

Noora moves around in her seat to get comfortable, "We're having a club meeting today if you want to come. Either of you. We love newcomers and hearing about others different experiences with love, hate, support, and prejudice they've dealt with."

I shift nervously, "Ugh- I don't think we can-"

"What club?" Lydia cuts me off.

Noora faces her before I can warn her, "The LGBT club. We have meetings every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Theo and Liam came by our stand the other day." She turns to me, "I was going to invite the lover boys then but they were kind of in a hurry." She giggles, her bright blue eyes lighting up in amusement.

Lydia side-eyes me with interest but doesn't say anything. "Can I get a flier?" She asks excitedly and Noora pulls out a colorful sheet from her backpack. Lydia scans the paper with intrigue. "I might drop by. I have some things I'd like to get off my chest." She admits and I give her a look to see where's she's going with this.

"Cool, I hope to see you guys there. I have some last minute activities I have to arrange for the meeting. We'll catch up later, it was nice to meet you, Lydia."

"Likewise, see you Noora." She waves and the perky blonde walks off in the opposite direction.

Lydia and I sit there eating the rest of our tacos and I'm grateful that she doesn't bring it up immediately. I know she's aching to talk about it so I finally just give into her lingering stares, "Theo and I are not a couple."

"But you want to be." She grins, "He's hot, what's the hesitation for?"

"You don't seem the least bit surprised by the idea of Theo and I."

"Gays have an affiliation for other gays. I've sensed it for a while now but I wanted to respect your privacy." She explains, chewing on her taco. She leans across the table and places her hand over mine to stop my nervous fidgeting, "I won't tell the others, so don't worry, but you have nothing to be ashamed of. I struggled with coming out and I still have my reservations sometimes and I think this club could help both of us. I can go with you if you want." She encourages, her sea-green eyes alight with support and sincerity.

I shake my head, "Thanks, but I don't think I'm ready." I say, chewing on my bottom lip. "I don't even know if I'm really gay or if it's just Theo."

Lydia cocks a brow, "I saw the way you used to check out Isaac when you thought no on was paying attention. I'm very observant and I notice things, more than anyone thinks I do. Especially Stiles. I swear sometimes I feel like he thinks I'm an idiot."

I fix her with a pointed look, "Stiles thinks you're anything but stupid. He's been in love with you since practically forever."

"He's not in love with me, he's in love with the idea of me. I don't want to be anyone's concept." She mutters, angrily stabbing at her rice with a fork.

"You know that's not true, he was the first person who realized just how smart you are."

"Besides Allison." She rolls her eyes. "He likes me and I like Kira. I don't want to feel obligated to return his feelings just because he's a nice guy."

"He's also you're best friend. I think you're fooling yourself if you think you have no feelings for him at all."

"I could say the same about Theo, The oblivious behavior goes both ways, Dunbar." She crosses her arms over her chest as she looks down at the table. "Stiles has always been there for me but I don't know if I can ever return his feelings."

"I guess that's your own personal mountain to climb. If you are into Kira, fine. Just don't play with Stiles' feelings in the process. If you aren't interested, tell him. Save him the pining."

"I think a part of me us just afraid to let him go. I need him in my life and I'm afraid that if I tell him, I'll lose him. He knows me almost better than anyone. Everyone except Allison."

"It's okay to care about them both." I assure her, squeezing her hand in comfort, "Thanks for offering to go with me. I'll let you know if I change my mind."

She smiles weakly, "I'm glad I ran into you, Liam."

She takes off and I start off back to my dorm. Without thinking, I whip out my phone and press the camera button next to Theo's contact info. The annoying beep rings a couple of times before he picks up and my screen is flooded with a face full of Theo.

His stormy eyes and light pink lips greet me cheekily and all I can think about is our hot makeout session in the woods. There might have been some butt fondling and some frisky cock rubbing, And maybe I gave him a blow job, you do the math.

"Pup." He grins sexily through the phone screen, "I'm missing that ass of yours already."

I blush underneath his gaze even with him hours away, "Can the others hear you?"

He chuckles, "No, they're all in the room with Malia. She's not doing too good." His voice lowers, "I'm not sure how long we're going to be here."

"What happened?"

"She's in a coma." He whispers depressingly.

"Theo… I'm so sorry. I know she's like family to you. Malia's strong, she'll get through this."

Even through the fuzzy screen I can see his eyes watering like a grey storm cloud threatening to pour, "I'll go out of my fucking mind if I lose her."

"You won't." I urge, "Scott won't let that happen."

"You seem to have a lot of faith in him."

"He took me under his wing and let me into their close-knit circle. I'm indebted to him but he never rubs that in my face. He's a humble guy with some mild anger issues. But he's loyal and trusting and he means what he says. So if he says he's going to do something about it, he will. He won't let Malia slip away."

He rubs his eyes, "I have to get back to Malia. I was just taking a quick breather, I didn't want to break down in front of her, even if she wouldn't know."

"Get some sleep, can't have your devilish good looks thwarted by some dark circles and stress wrinkles." I tease playfully which cheers him up, I give myself a mental high five.

"I kind of miss you, Liam."

"Show me how much you miss me when you get back."

"Are you going to have a stick up your ass if I do?"

"Depends" I tease, "Will it be your stick up my ass?"

His laughter vibrates through the phone when I hang up with a chuckle of my own.

SCOTT POV:

Everyone is scattered around the house, but it's just me with her now. I take a wet cloth and try to wash her the best I can while still maintaining her modesty.

Humming contently to Summer time because I know how much she likes it, I wash her legs and arms, her neck and face, and I lift her shirt and wash her stomach, focused on the task at hand. I have so much respect for her that nothing about this is even remotely sexual, purely vital for her well being. I wash her hair with a water basin and some shampoo and conditioner my mom let me borrow. I run my rough, long fingers through her hair and scratch her scalp to work in the soapy shampoo until it's clean. I run warm water over her head a few times until it's all gone and then apply conditioner, sliding it's lotion-type consistency through her wet hair. I finish off towel drying her hair and leave it there a while until it's just a little damp. The last thing she needs is to catch a cold. After, I brush through her hair with a comb Allison lent me. I continue to sing to myself, moving around wit a little pep in my step. I imagine that somehow she can feel me and she's chuckling internally, using this as blackmail for later.

Her heart monitor beeps at a steady rhythm yet her eyes remain shut. Her body doesn't move. I grab the hand closest to me and bring it to my lips, kissing each individual finger and running my calloused hands over her soft palms. "I miss you, Lia."

My admission is met with silence but I keep going. It's cathartic almost, having the boldness to speak without fear of her not feeling the same. "I know that we haven't known each other for very long. We argue and push each other's buttons, but you're pack. I'm not sure if you want to be, I figure I would of asked you eventually."

My head falls to her lap and tears prick at my eyes until they sting, "Malia, please wake up." I plead desperately. I sniffle and wipe my eyes with the back of my free hand and clasp it on top of hers with my other one encasing hers underneath, "I feel like I can talk to you about anything, even now. I like how I can be unfiltered around you." I smile, "I remember the first time I saw you when had you pressed up against the wall of the dorm upon our meeting. You were so fearless… your eyes stunned me into submission." I chuckle and draw lazy patterns in her skin with my thumb like it's ink from a tattoo gun, "I think even then I knew you would change my life. As much as a cluster fuck as it is right now, I think I was meant to know you. I can feel it in my bones."

I stand hunched over her and press my forehead against hers, "Lia, come home." I urge with achingly slow breaths, I lay a searing kiss to the place my head had been and trace the the contour of her lips like it's the most interesting thing in the world.

"Stiles misses you." I say bemused, "Allison, too."

I finally get what I've been wanting to say off my chest, "I know about Peter. I'm upset you didn't tell me but it's okay. I get why you didn't, I would have been wary of that too if he was my father. I'm sure he's made a lot of enemies. But he's here. He must care about you if he came. I mean, how could he not? You're you." I chuckle to myself, "I roughened your old man up a little bit. I would say I'm sorry, but you and I both know I wouldn't mean it." I chuckle jokingly.

I pause to collect my thoughts.

"I wonder what my mom's reaction will be when she finds out we're living together. She's already taken with you. I can tell she won't be happy about it, but I'm pretty sure you've already won her over." I muse, checking my phone for any missed calls from the pack or Braedan. "So if Peter's your father, I guess that makes Derek and Cora your cousins." I pause, thinking it over, "That actually makes perfect sense. Derek's grumpiness and Cora's wit. I wonder why I didn't come to that conclusion sooner." I joke lightly. "I was just kidding about that whole you dying thing meaning I'd have the room to myself. I'm clingy, I need someone to talk to before I go to sleep and when I wake up. Someone to make breakfast for in the morning before practice. And I guess someone to catch me masturbating." I chuckle, remembering that dreadful, unlucky moment. But I wouldn't change it though. I wouldn't change anything except for this. Her index finger twitches at the mention of masturbation.

"Oh you liked that, didn't you?" I tease, a crooked smile overtaking my features.

There's another twitch and her middle finger lifts weakly off the bed.

My grin is constant at this point and I full out laugh, "Even from deep down under, you still aren't putting up with any of my shit."

Another twitch, this time it's her big toe. A good sign. A pattern.

"You know you can't just leave me, right? What would I do without my voice of reason? Probably go off the deep end, pick a fight, and prove my dad right." I joke, "He'd love a good reason to tell me how I'm ruining my life being an artist. I should probably just forget passion and take a 9-5 desk job. Maybe life would work itself out that way."

Her hand tightens ever so slightly against mine.

"Nope, you don't agree with that, do you?"

I don't get another response so I continue, "You irk me sometimes, you know. I'd miss a lot of things about you if you were gone. Like the way you jump into things head first without a plan, how you defy me at every turn." I muse lightly, hoping to annoy her enough that she'll give me another sign, "Your ability to make me hard with just a look, how you walk around our room unsuspectingly cute." I tease, thinking of her mile long, creamy legs and how the first day I saw her I wanted my face between them immediately, her crushing me like a catacomb withering under her quivering thighs and the lustful looks I'd send her way. "How you pee with the door open just to frustrate me on purpose. You know how much that grosses me out." I chuckle fondly. "I can only imagine what it would be like when you're on your period." I joke and I'm rewarded with another sharp squeeze.

"Too much?" I murmur playfully. "You know I really don't care about that stuff. I've been living with just my mom for years, I'm used to it."

I fix the covers on the bed and fluff her pillow to make her more comfortable. I sit with her for a little while longer until I realize that I should probably stop hiding out up here with her and actually join the land of the living. No pun intended.

I'm still holding her hand and I swear I feel one of her fingers jump again.

I wait to see if anything else happens, but to my disappointment nothing does.

I imagine this must be what hopelessness feels like. The kind of hopelessness that reminds me of loneliness so profound that I can almost picture her standing right beside me. Her eyes carefree and a glossy brown, that earth-shattering smile on her face, and her golden-spun hair falling sultry and boldly down to her hips. And that's when I think that being without Malia feels empty, that girl who's made of liquid sunsets snubbed from the world. Maybe then I would dance with myself alone in my room with my arms outstretched around the ghost of a girl who would haunt my dreams every night. I'd pretend that it's her hands on my chest and my arms around her waist, her sienna eyes boring deeply into mine as we kiss like real people do.

"I'll always be waiting for you, Lia." I vow, feet firmly planted on the ground and my heart falling out of my butt. Just as I let go of her hand, I see a finger move. Then two. Then three, Then the whole hand.

Her brown eyes flutter open, easily adjusting to the dim light the candles I'd laid out cast the room in.

She looks at me the same way I'd imagined she would.

"Scott" She smiles lazily, her dark hued eyelids hooded as she lets out a yawn.

I stand there in awe for a moment before I rush over and pull her into a bone-crushing hug, "God, I thought I'd never get to hear your voice again."

My name is the first word that fell from her lips. My face is the first thing she saw when she woke up. My arms are the first to embrace her. My wolf growls in approval, it's restlessness satiated.

"I'm sorry I scared you." She whispers weakly, running her fingers through my hair as I practically lay in her lap on the bed. Her hands threading through my scalp makes me feel at ease. I sniff the air for reassurance and keep constant skin contact, afraid she'll disappear again.

"It's all okay now." I sigh, breathing in her vanilla scent, "You're safe, that's all that matters."

"I heard you."

"What?" I ask.

"I heard you talking to me. You kept calling to me. I just followed your voice. I knew I had to get back here for you- for all of you guys. And the girl that was murdered. You gave me strength, Scott. It's because of you that I'm here right now."

"I- I don't understand." I start confused, unsure.

She wets her dry lips, "It was in this white room, kind of like a metaphor for my conscious. I didn't know which way was up or down or if I was just dead, but hearing your voice… somehow I figured it out."

We're so close that our noses are almost touching. Her breathing sounds heavy in my ears. She's shaking so hard but she doesn't make a move to lean back. But she doesn't move an inch forward either. I take careful, curious movements. My fingers twitch at my side until I move it to firmly capture the space between her cheek and jaw in my hand, My thumb makes soft strokes across her cheek like a paintbrush careful maneuvering a canvas, and I can hear her audibly gulp. Our noses graze, tantalizing slow, the thrill of excitement innervating every part of my body in delicious tingles. Her lips hang just below mine and I close the distance, her smooth pink lips brushing mine timidly, testing the waters.

All Hell breaks loose.

Her hands grapple at the back of my neck as she pulls me closer, her hungry lips devouring me with slow, languid pulls of her teeth tugging on my bottom lip and the teasing lingering of her lips before she pulls away and comes back together again like tidal waves crashing together. I moan into her supple mouth and she scratches at the skin on the back of my neck. Reluctantly, I pull away with my forehead resting on hers as I catch my breath. We steal a glance at each other through our intertwined lashes and I feel all air leave my body. I'm looking at her, and she is so fucking beautiful.

Shit. I let the realization of what I'd just done sink in. I just made out with my fresh-out-of-a-coma, very real, probably very confused roommate. Shame washes over me, "I'm sorry, that was inappropriate." I start, taking a few steps back from the bed to catch my breath. I begin pacing around the room, tugging at my curls. "Fuck." I curse under my breath. I stop moving when I feel her eyes on me, unreadable as usual. So many mysteries inside those eyes that I can't seem to decode. "Malia… I'm so sorry. I shouldn't of done that."

She quirks a brow with a bemused smile like she's in on some secret I'm not apart of, "Did it look like I was complaining?"

"I got carried away, caught up in the moment. It didn't mean-"

"It didn't mean anything, is that what you were going to say, Scott?" She asks briskly, her expression flat and sunken.

"I just-" I run my fingers over my tired jaw, "Of course it meant something," I defend, "I just don't think it should happen again. At least while we're still roommates."

She nods her head, her mouth falling in a thin line, "Okay." She begins, short, brute, detached. "Friends, then?" She inquires, waiting for me to validate her.

Indecision weighs heavy on my shoulders. I nod stiffly and feel my body protest against my decision. Allison would be mad at me for pussying out, I know it. I'm mad at myself. I just don't want to lose her and what if being more than friends ruined everything? I'd rather have some of her and secretly wish for more than have nothing at all. "Friends." I whisper, already regretting my decision.

My phone buzzes in my pocket. It's Braedan, maybe I really did miss a hall meeting.

I press the green button and start off, "Hey Brae-"

"No time for pleasantries, Scott." She says, sounding out of breath, "I can't explain everything right now but you have to get back to campus. It's Lydia and Liam, they've been attacked. They took Lydia and left Liam injured, I think it's some kind of warning."

"What warning?" I press, frantically throwing clothes in a bag as Malia looks on with uncertainty and helplessness.

She groans, seemingly in pain. "There were words written in blood on the brick wall of the alley where I found Liam. I'm thinking it's Lydia's blood."

"What did it say, Braedan!"

"Watch your pack."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: So this chapter was long and had some hints scattered throughout it that you may not pick up on yet, but they are there. I didn't get a lot of reviews last chapter so please leave a good critique, the feedback makes me want to update faster. A lot of stuff happened. Are you mad, sad, happy, relieved, scared? Let me know in the review box!


	8. Panic Room

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Worry" Rhodes & "ROMANS- Happy Love" Mahogany Session

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Smut ahead. Skip around if you don't like reading that.

STILES POV:

Scott paces around in between packing bags. Everyone's already had their turn crying on Malia's shoulder, her awakening unfortunately being overshadowed by the news. I bite at my already partially chewed fingernails, a habit I had picked up after everything with the Nogitsune happened. My antsy behavior doesn't go unnoticed by the others and Allison wraps her arms around me in a hug, "We're going to get our best friend back, I promise."

My whiskey eyes darken to a murky ale, "What if they're hurting her? I feel so fucking useless just sitting here when we should of already gone after her." I mutter agitated, running my fingers through my gelled hair.

"Don't think like that, Stiles." She advises, her bottom lip falling captive between her teeth, "Just- just don't think like that."

Kira watches us from the corner with a indiscernible expression.

I think about the last conversation I'd had with Lydia. About us, but not really. More about her. And about Kira. I miss talking to her, we haven't really hung out in a while. It's kind of hard to talk to someone who you have feelings for when those feelings aren't returned. Trust me, I've tried to move on. It's just not that easy.

Malia has been a breath of fresh air. Just the thing the pack needed to let our guards down a bit. She's cool, the outspoken werecoyote. I had my reservations at first but she's grown to mean something to me, and once that happens there's no undoing it. Though I'd never admit it to her or Scott, I think I may have a little crush on her. If things had been different, if it had been me roomed with her instead of Scott, maybe I would of gone for her. Maybe if Scott wasn't hopelessly into her, I still would. But he is, even if he thinks he's good at hiding it.

But then I think about it. Lydia. It has always been Lydia. What scares me the most is that it may always be Lydia, even if it's not me for her.

I look over at Kira who refuses to be comforted by anyone, but I can tell she's worried. The way the skin between her brows scrunches up gives her away. Her dark eyes are unfocused, looking off into distant space. She absently twirls a magenta strand around her dainty finger. Her other hand clutches Malia's, the only person she seems to tolerate any contact from.

I hope she really cares about Lydia, she deserves it.

KIRA POV:

Where are you, Lydia?

She's easy on my mind, the strawberry blonde who's wormed her way into my heart. I know it's not serious yet, but maybe one day it could be?

Malia holds my hand and it anchors me a little. I'm glad she's safe. Stiles was shaken by the news, his frazzled state being the key indicator. I don't know why I care, him and Lydia are best friends. It makes sense. But then why do I feel this way?

Maybe it's because Stiles doesn't look at Lydia like just a friend. They have history, a bond. Something I'll never understand even if I know her for more years to come. When the two are together, they take up their own space like a quiet, private entity. It's hard not to notice, but one look from Lydia has me wondering why I'm even questioning it.

Theo left the room a little while after talking to Malia. He's worried about Liam, I can tell. Malia picked up on it, too, but we thought it best not to call him out on it right now. Not just for him, but for Liam too. We know he's not exactly confident in his sexuality right now. He should get to come out to his friends on his own terms and Theo's overbearing questions I'm sure he's dying to ask would raise some concern.

I check the time on my phone and scroll through my photo album, a selfie of Lydia and I lighting up the screen. It was the night of the party when we barely knew each other. She looked hot and I was hoping I would get lucky that night, but somehow it became more than that.

I smile softly at the screen, her strawberry locks and rosy, bee-stung lips giving me that tingly feeling in my stomach. Her green eyes sparkle, much like the rest of her personality. I can feel her through the screen, her vivaciousness, her cheek pressed against mine in the picture, the scent of her perfume.

I'm worried about you, Lydia.

THEO POV:

My back free-falls down the slope of the bathroom door, my face between my knees. A grayness hangs in the air, a reminder that Liam is vulnerable and I'm not there to protect him.

I decided to leave the room even though I really didn't want to leave Malia, not when she'd just woken up. But I just needed a minute to compose myself. Liam's not my boyfriend or anything, but I care about him and that means something. I don't care about a lot of people.

I take a leap of faith and pull out my cellphone and scroll until his name pops up.

The line rings a couple times until his voice sounds through the speakers. He sounds gravelly, like how I would imagine rocks at the bottom of a stream bumping and crashing against the surface until they smooth out their sharp edges.

"Liam, are you okay?" I whisper worriedly, leaning my head against my hand.

"A little banged up. Braedan thinks I have a concussion, I probably do. My head hurts so bad." He mutters in breathy complaints. "You don't need to worry about me, it's Lydia who's in danger. I'm so weak… I couldn't save her."

I let out a breath, "Does it make me a bad person for being happy it was her instead of you?"

"Theo…" Liam sighs. I can picture his tired eyes falling closed in frustration. I know that's not what he wanted to hear, but it's what I needed to say. If it was between him and Lydia, I'm glad it wasn't him.

"I'm sorry. I know I'm being insensitive, it's just that I-"

"Are you going soft on me?" Liam chuckles the best he can. It comes out more like strangled coughs. He struggles to catch his breath, "Lydia saved me. Without her, I probably would have been taken, or dead. Don't just discard her like that, she means a lot to me. She's pack, like Malia and Kira are to you."

I scratch at my growing stubble, "You're right. I just keep putting my foot in my mouth. We're on our way back to school, just stay inside until I get there, okay?"

"Yeah, okay Theo…"

"Promise me." I command firmly, my stony tone waking something in Liam.

"I-I promise." He stumbles over his words at my sudden intensity, the joking nature from before becoming straight-laced. "I'll be here when you get back. I'm gonna go though, I don't want to wake Braedan."

"Wait…" I stall, "I- um- I just wanted to talk to you a little while longer." I chuckle nervously, my cheeks red and flushed. I smack my forehead, why the hell did I say that?

"I can feel you glaring through the phone." Liam murmurs amused, "If this is your way of telling me you miss me, well- I miss you, too. A lot, actually." Soft-spoken as ever, Liam goes quiet after his confession.

"What does this mean?" I mumble, trying to not sound too hopeful. Internalized homophobia is hard to overcome, it doesn't happen over night. I know that. But the hope is there anyways, the fleeting thought that maybe Liam has changed his mind about us. About himself.

"I don't know." He says unsure. "I guess it means things aren't as black and white as I thought. Something's changed between us."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because I can't get you out of my head."

SCOTT POV:

Peter eventually comes to his bearings and waltzes through my bedroom door getting up in my face, "Pull another stunt like that again and I'll show you what a real Alpha looks like." He threatens as his crisp blue eyes darken before he shifts his attention to an awake Malia who's stayed quiet throughout the exchange. He makes a move to go to her and I block his path, a territorial growl rumbling in my chest.

"Scott… let him through." Malia warns testily, looking up at me with confused eyes. When I don't make a move to let him past, she tries again, "He's my dad, Scott. He deserves to be here as much as anyone else."

"In my house?" I balk.

She shrugs, "If you don't want him here, fine, kick him out. But you're kicking me out, too." She states impassively but her eyes give her away. She's still mad about earlier. I don't blame her, I'm the one who kissed her. This is a talk for another time though. This trip so far has been a roller-coaster of emotions, sometimes Malia and I are high and other times we're low. It just shows that there's still so much we don't know about each other.

Begrudgingly, I move aside. Peter smirks at my submission.

He looks her over the way any father looks at their child, but something about his worry feels unwarranted. How could a man like Peter ever possibly care about anyone other than himself? It had to be a trick. He's manipulating her somehow, their relationship is rocky at best. There has to be a reason she never mentioned him when she brought up Henry.

"Hi Peter." She greets lowly, her eyes finally coming up to meet his. Everyone else had left the room except for me and Kira who sits in the corner of the room watching the pair like a hawk.

"Malia" He sighs in relief. I can tell her wants to hug her, but caution and the eyes on him holds him back. It might also have to do with the fear that she'll pull away.

Deaton walks into the room and gives Peter a cordial nod, "You should look over her bite. I can't quite figure out what could of caused something like this. It's looks like whatever did this wasn't just trying to nick her, but wanted to take a chunk out of her. The lines are messy and undefined, the creature that attacked her was going in for the kill."

Peter nods solemnly and reaches to lift Malia's shirt a bit. She flinches slightly at his touch and I'm ready to kick his ass again when after a moment of hesitation, she gives him the okay to look.

He raises the tattered shirt and glares at it, running his finger gently over the asymmetrical lines, "This is definitely a Wendigo. Nasty, little buggers are very sloppy when they feed."

"Why would they of come after her?" I question.

He shakes his head, "Could have been a number of reasons, maybe even pure coincidence. I've been keeping tabs of the school and I know about the girl that was killed, the pictures are all over the internet. This bite looks similar to the ones the girl bore on her body when they found her."

Malia speaks for the first time, "How do we fix it?"

"You have to let the affects run their course, there's no way around that. But to heal it, you're going to need burn out the infection. Someone get me a blow torch, I'll do it myself. I don't trust any of you with my daughter."

"Are you talking about taking a blow torch to her skin?" I ask incredulously. "I think the fuck not."

Malia chuckles quietly to herself but tries to hide it behind a cough.

"It's the only way, Scott." She speaks up, sienna eyes swimming with fear, but she tries not to show it. Malia, always so fearless. She looks like the splitting image of the girl I met the first day of move in. Still gorgeous, still fierce. Just a little shaken.

I walk over and grab her hand and run my thumb over her knuckles, ready to take the pain away when necessary, "Lets get this over with."

She looks down in fascination at my finger making patterns in her skin, "That's not very friend-like." She mumbles under her breath. She pulls her hand away, trying to detach herself from me, physically or emotionally I'm not sure. Maybe a combination of both.

I take her hand again and play with her fingers, "I said that we shouldn't be more than friends, not that I don't want to be." I whisper back while Peter is distracted.

Even with the awkwardness of our kiss looming over our heads, she looks at me with solemn eyes and doesn't pull away again, "Promise you won't leave."

I gaze into those stormy brown eyes so full of trust that it hurts, "Where else would I want to be?"

Her soft smile is my reward as she runs her thumb over the back of my hand. Peter goes out of the room to prepare the equipment with Deaton in tow and Kira scurries out as well. "So… I make you hard with just a look, huh?" She giggles with a teasing smirk, batting her impossibly long, dark lashes.

My mind immediately goes blank and I feel my face heat up, "You really did hear everything…" I chuckle, embarrassed but not exactly ashamed either. It got her to wake up so I'm fine with whatever little jab she throws my way.

"And I'm unsuspectingly cute?" She continues goading me with a playful glint in her eyes. "I'm glad we're just friends, otherwise I'd think you were hitting on me with all these compliments you're throwing at me."

My brows furrow and eyes darken as they roam over her heart-shaped face, "You know there's more to it than that." I sigh, running my index finger over her knuckles, "You're a hurricane of a woman, you always keep me on my toes. You're gorgeous, but I think you know that already. I just need to play this safe for a while because you're more than just some girl. Are you understanding what I'm trying to say?"

Her eyelashes flutter against her cheeks and her eyes seem to glaze over in a far away look, "You're a great guy, Scott. I see why she loved you." She says dreamily, her body here but her mind elsewhere.

I arch an eyebrow in question, "Allison?"

A look of panic flashes across her face but its gone before I can analyze it.

She rambles out a response, "Uh-yy-yeah, Allison. Of course, who else would I be talking about?"

Before I can respond, Peter comes back in the room with the torch glowing a blue flame. Malia's eyes react instantly, the glossy brown now resembling the ethereal blue of the fire. If even possible, she clutches my hand tighter.

Nothing will ever haunt me more than the sounds of her screams echoing off the walls.

MALIA POV:

Burning out the infection was probably one of the worst pains I'd ever felt; worst than shifting for the first time, worst than any time I've taken someone's pain away, anything. What's up with Hales and fire?

We're on our way back to campus, I said my good byes to Peter and thanked Melissa for her hospitality.

"If you ever have any questions, need some study tips, or just some motivation to keep on working towards your goal, give me a call. You know, from one future nurse to another nurse." She smiles warmly as she hugs me on the door step.

Being enveloped in her embrace is like the feelings of warm milk and cookies in your stomach, having the same calming affect of morphine. "You can count on it, Melissa. Nursing Process is already not my best friend."

She chuckles, "Nursing Process is nobody's best friend." She giggles, "I think I have some flash cards stored away somewhere. I'll look through some old boxes in the attic this weekend and see if I can find them. I'll send them to Scott to pass on to you."

I smile good-naturedly. I feel terrible that she still doesn't know about Scott and I's living arrangement. I thank her again with a small smile and wave goodbye. I turn towards Stiles' jeep and catch Scott watching us with a big, crooked smile resting on his face. He winks at me when I catch him and I giggle back with a tinge of blush on my cheeks.

He's so handsome, god. How am I suppose to be just friends with Mr. Sex-on-legs walking around our room shirtless all the time?

Strutting down the steps with an unnecessary sway in my hips, I walk past him and intentionally brush the side of my breast against his chest letting my fingers graze his thigh. Good thing Melissa had already gone inside, at this point I'm unabashed.

I'm not sure when I'll tell Scott about the other version of me that visited me in my coma or if I'll even tell him at all. What if he doesn't believe me and thinks I'm crazy? I know I would think that if he came to me spouting some nonsense like that. I know I need to be a little weary about the way I act around him, especially after what happened earlier. I can't get the kiss out of my head. His full, supple lips dominated my own as his tongue fucked my mouth. I remember biting his lip and the moan that had followed shortly after. Just the sound of him, knowing how much he wanted me had wetness pooling in my panties.

My legs tingle at the thought as I falter slightly. He looks back at me and smirks deliciously as if he knew exactly where my thoughts had gone. In my own way, I know he's right. Being roommates and friends-with-benefits can only lead to things getting messy and catching feelings, more so than the ones that are already there. I don't do boyfriends, commitment has never been my thing. I never really ever gave it thought until I met Scott, but even then, the thought left me just as quickly as it came. If it's just friends he wants, then it's just friends he'll get… doesn't mean I'll make it easy for him.

It take us a couple hours to get back to campus with Scott, Allison, and Stiles in one car and Theo, Kira, and I in his Impala. I figured we needed a little quality pack time after the scare I gave them. We meet up in the middle of the square next the the dorms.

"What the hell are we going to do about Lydia? We need to come up with a plan." Stiles gets straight to the point with affection for the strawberry blonde clear in the way he speaks. Kira eyes him curiously and speaks up, "Stiles is right. We can't wait too long, we have no idea what those freaks are doing to her. Or who they even are."

I agree with them. We can't take any chances, not this time. I could of died from my bite. Lydia is a little more fragile, who knows what could happen to her if she's bitten as well. But we can't go into this half-cocked with a lackluster plan. It's all or nothing, laying out all our chips to play.

Allison speaks with an air of confidence, "We start off the day as normal. Class should be starting up again this morning. I know we've all gotten little sleep but we need to continue our usual routine. The people who took her could have others watching us, we need to play it cool, or at the very least we can't let them know what we're planning. Stiles, you're the detective, you make the plan. Full proof, no plot holes. Kira, you stay with him. Everyone else needs to go to class and mentally prepare themselves. I'm gonna contact Danny and see if he can hack into Lydia's phone. It's turned off, I already tried calling it. But maybe he can track her with all that technology he has at home. He doesn't live too far from here actually. I'm going to head over there and see what he can do."

Scott looks at her pleased with pride washing over him in waves. I can smell it standing next to him. I'd tried to make eye contact with Allison in the car, but her gaze had been glued to her phone the whole time, most likely worried about Lydia. I need to find time to pull her aside to apologize. I was out of line and I blamed her for trying to keep me safe. She's a good friend, a noble one. And who am I to pass up friends?

Stiles nods his head, "Sounds like a plan to me. Kira and I can convene in my room, my roommate usually spends the weekends at home so we'll have some privacy since he shouldn't be back for at least a couple of hours. We'll check in with you guys later tonight when we have a plan.

We all nod in agreement and take off in separate directions. Me, Scott, Kira, and Stiles towards our rooms and Theo and Allison start to move the other direction. In a split decision, I grab onto Allison's wrist gently and she turns to look at me. "Hey, you can come back to Scott and I's place if you want. I know it must feel really lonely without Lydia in your room. Stressing about it might make you feel like you're going crazy." I offer, trying to convey a silent apology in my words. She shakes off my concern lightly, "It's okay, I think I just want to be by myself for now. Thanks for asking though, I appreciate it."

"Well the offer still stands if you change your mind." I make sure to say, giving her a small smile which she returns.

"Thanks Malia."

Yeah, we'll be okay. It will just take a little time.

Theo volunteers to walk her back to her dorm and she obliges happily, the two chatting away as they take off.

I turn back to face Scott who waited for me while Stiles and Kira already went inside, "She misses you, you know."

I shrug, "I know, because I miss her, too."

Once we're back in the dorm, I settle on my bed with a sigh of exhaustion. We lay around for about an hour. I preread before my first class at 12:00. Practice has been moved to 3:00 since the school just announced that classes were back on this morning.

Scott pulls one of my headphones out while I lay on my bed, my feet dangling in the air.

I pause my episode of Shameless and turned my gaze a quarter inch in his direction. "Yeah?"

He leans down, his body heat and dominance washing over me like an inescapable tidal wave hell bent on dragging me under. His breath fans across my skin, warm and goose bump inducing. "I'm headed to work, won't be back until later for practice." His mouth unnecessarily close to my ear.

Unnecessary or not, I still feel wetness pool in panties. With his breath still on my neck my legs automatically squeeze together.

As if he knew what he did to me he gave a light chuckle. His hand lands on the bare skin of the small of my back as he pushes away. "Call me if you need me." He heads for the door.

I turned over onto my back and raised on my elbows, my abs on display in my crop top. I propped one knee up as I meet his low-lidded gaze. "What would I need you for, Scott?"

His dark eyes rake over me in a way meant to be respectful, but there is long hidden lust behind his usually kind, brown eyes. When they slide to mine he says, "I'm sure you could think of a reason." He backs out of the room, probably to hide the growing erection in his pants.

The moment I caught him in the shower flashed into my mind and I bit my lip. I ignore the bout of horniness that runs through my body to continue my show. It wasn't like I didn't have time to get rid of it what with him working for a few hours.

I get swept up in another episode or two until there was aching need to relieve it. With his scent in the air it was almost like he was still here. Almost.

I discard my clothes on the floor and push my laptop over until it was against the wall. I put on my masturbation music play list. For whatever reason, it was a lot of The Weeknd and old school Britney Spears. They make me feel sexy, okay?

Once settled in my hands worked down my body, getting a good feel. I wet my finger and twirl it around one of my nipples so it'd harden, then I tug and twirl at it. My other hand snakes down to my wetness. I lather it onto my clit with a moan.

My phone vibrates against the bed, but it is faced down so I ignore it.

With Scott in the forefront of my mind, I imagine it is his thick finger teasing my clit. His mouth, no doubt skilled, would smell my scent in appreciation. He'd grab my hips and nip at my pussy lips while I squirmed underneath him. He'd meet my eyes to remind me that he was the one about to make me scream, that he was the one about to make me cum.

I grin cockily knowing that I was probably the thought on his mind when he stroked his cock in the shower that day. Confidence filled me so I reached for my nipple clamps inside my pillowcase, the only place I felt like Scott couldn't find them. I carefully placed each one on my nipple and wince, but it felt good in a dark twisted way. Now there was no way to hide a dildo in your pillowcase inconspicuously, so that was under my bed in a tote box. I quickly wash it off then all but dove onto the bed with need.

There was no need for lube with how wet I was. Scott was around the same size as my dildo, that I appreciated more than ever.

It slid into me with protest at first, but I relaxed and inch by inch it disappeared. I had to remember to be quiet with my headphones on, I couldn't hear much with them in.

My other hand worked my clit into delicious motions while I fuck my pussy with the Scott sized dildo. My hips worked against it. This was hotter with the realization that the real thing would only be better.

He'd slam his hips into mine over and over while he kisses me in between sucking on my nipples. He'd stare at me into my soul like it wasn't a big deal. He'd fill the room with the sounds of our flesh slapping against each others, his groans only making me hornier.

I bite my lip, thinking back to the water as it slid down his tan and athletic body. His eyes closed, his head tilted to the sky, his slick dark hair and adam's apple drawing my attention. His taunt ass and legs held up his powerful frame while his bicep and tricep worked that nice, hard cock thick in his hand.

"Shit" I curse, almost getting myself off.

The clamps start to really hurt, but pulling them off now would only result in a lesser orgasm and I wasn't a quitter.

My hand worked the dildo into me faster. My stomach clenched as I lifted off the bed to watch it fuck me. "Fuck," I bite into my lip again. I wanted to cum, preferably on a real cock, but a plastic one would have to do.

He'd recognize that I was getting close and said some nasty shit like, "If you want to cum on my cock you have to beg for it," He'd slow down to nice, long strokes.

Because I was into nasty shit, too, I'd be like, "Please let me cum on your cock, daddy."

He'd like the "daddy" thing and play into it with, "Tell daddy how much you want his cock, Lia."

My finger sped up on my clit. "Scott," I slammed the dildo into my harder, then went back to my fantasy.

I'd wiggle my hips, trying to get some speed going, but realizing it was no use I'd relent. "I need your cock, daddy." My eyes would burn blue into his. "Please." I'd growl.

He'd finally slam his hips back into mine with a low growl in response, one that caused his eyes to glare blood red. His teeth would nip at my neck and lightly bite into the flesh that'd illicit a moan from me. "Take my cock."

"Yeah, Scott. Give it to me." I moaned. I was so close with the orgasm just out of reach.

He'd stare down at me, knowing I was right where he wanted me. "Cum for me, Lia." Alpha dominance ringing in his voice.

My eyes squeeze shut tight as I reach the edge. "Fuck me, Scott. Oh God, yes." I writhe on the bed under the menstruation of feeling something hard slid in and out of me and the stimulation of my most sensitive nerve being abused under one of the best orgasms I've ever had.

His scent fills my nose again, only it was stronger...And accompanied by a beating heart.

My eyes snapped open to find none other than Scott McCall standing by the door.

His eyes wide and mouth slack in shock. I shouldn't have done it, but I winked.

His eyes traveled down to the nipple clamps that applied the right pressure at the right time, then to my Scott sized dildo. He turned around in embarrassment, but definitely a waft of arousal on his part.

"Sorry," He rushed out.

Part of me should be devastated. I should be red with embarrassment. I should want to move out. Instead I smirked at the realization that he'd picture that the next time he was stroking his meat. Friends do that stuff, right?

One way or another I wanted to be screaming his name with him inside me by the end of the semester.

I looked at my phone and see that it was a text from him that had disturbed me earlier.

Shop had to close down. On my way home - Scott

THEO POV:

I picked up Liam from Braedan's after I dropped Allison off at her dorm.

Annoyingly attractive even while sporting a bloody gash on his forehead and hand-shaped bruise marks around his throat, he still looks like the sexiest thing I've ever fucking seen. Though I don't like seeing him all beat up, he reminds me of a greaser from my favorite book turned featured-film, The Outsiders. He definitely has the amateur Pony Boy vibe rolling off of him all bloody and disheveled. Now all he needs is a leather jacket and a cigarette which I happen to have both of in abundance… maybe I could let him borrow my jacket. He'd have to keep coming over to give it back. And I'd just keep lending it to him over and over.

He's all laid up on the couch swaddled in blankets and pillows, his spearmint scent filling my nose. His stubble has grown noticeably longer, almost enough to where I could call it a small beard. My hands twitch at my sides to run my fingers through it and pull on it as I imagine I would while pumping into his tight little ass…

Whoa, rewind. He's hurt, get a grip Theo.

Curled up on the couch together, we watch The Dead Poet's Society. We're sitting pretty close to the point that it could be misconstrued as cuddling, but he doesn't seem to mind. I know I don't.

My camera lays sprawled around my neck and when he's not looking, I snap a quick photo and he chuckles, throwing a piece of kettle corn at me. "I'm trying to watch the movie, James Dean, do you mind?" He teases playfully, giving me a pearly white smile.

My mouth twitches as I try not to smile back, but I fall victim to his charms, "I was all worried about you back there in Beacon Hills and this is how you treat me?" I say feigning mock hurt, "You told me to show you how much I missed you when I got back and that's exactly what I'm doing." I joke, taking a piece of his popcorn and popping it into my mouth with a satisfied moan.

He watches my mouth as I lick the salty-sweetness of the kettle corn off my lips. With heavy-lidded eyes, I mess with him even more, "They taste better than they look. If you don't believe me, you're welcome to come over here and try them out for yourself." I say, biting my lip as his eyes follow with lust.

"I already had a sneak peek, and I think I've had better." Liam says glibly with an eye roll.

I cross my arms over my chest, "Well you sure as shit weren't complaining when I went down on you, pup." I mutter a little offended. I can't really tell if he's kidding or not. What makes it worse is that it shouldn't matter to me, but for some reason it does. This is just an arrangement, friendly fuck buddies at the most whenever it escalates to that. Green jealously swims in my veins and I don't like it. I want to know who exactly has made him feel even a fraction of what I have.

He brushes his nose against my shoulder in comfort, "I'm just messing with you, Theo. Don't get all butt hurt about it."

My eyes narrow, "Was that suppose to be a gay joke?"

Liam's lips quirk in a half smile and he shrugs, "Maybe."

Even knowing he's kidding, I still sulk a little in my seat. He seems to catch onto my brooding after a while. He reaches over to the bowl of buttered popcorn that sits in my lap, "If it makes you feel better, yours is the only popcorn I've ever had." He says cheekily in an effort to make me feel better.

"I didn't think you liked popcorn at first."

He shrugs with a secret sly smile, "Popcorn isn't so bad. I've learned you can't really know if you like something until you try it."

He winks.

And I swoon.

SCOTT POV:

I just witnessed Malia masturbating; Her gorgeous naked body laid in a quivering mess, convulsing in her silken sheets with a dildo pumping in and out of her with nipple clamps decorating her tits. Oh fuck, when my name left her lips… I think I came on sight. I mumbled a lame, "sorry" and she winked at me. If anything, her legs seemed to spread apart further at my arrival, a silent invitation as she bit her lip like a siren tempting me to my doom.

Hungry thoughts swim in my head and I almost go back in there and throw her long creamy legs over my shoulders and give it to her exactly how she fantasized it. I don't know if she knows this, but I had seen and heard almost everything. I saw her nipples tighten and her wet pussy glistening for my eyes to feast upon. I was in a state of shock, there was no way I could tear my eyes away. If anything, she had the desired affect. This was going to be way harder than I thought.

I grab some dirty lacrosse gear out of my bag I discarded on the futon and decide to head to the field early, her addictive vanilla and shea butter scent seems to be growing stronger as it wafts around the room. I'm currently hiding out in the bathroom to change into my old clothes. There's no way I'm going back in there to get clean ones because I honestly may not leave the room if I do. I peel my clothes from my body and reach for my dirty ones but the sound of her moving around in the bed room stops me. I move over to the shower and turn on the water just in case she's listening in. Knowing her, she'd get off on knowing I'm rubbing one out to the image of her fucking herself while envisioning it being me.

With no shame, I grab my hard, throbbing cock between my hands and tug on it a few times, giving it a firm slap to get it going. I grab some lotion from underneath the counter and work myself up good and fast, testingly running my thumb over the tip until sticky precum coats my finger. I lather it over the shaft and pump myself, loving the smacking sound it makes as I imagine it's Malia's hand and her warm, wet mouth taking me in inch by inch. I listen in for any noises from the other room and I hear her breathing speed up. Yeah, she's definitely listening to me. With this knowledge in mind, I quicken my pace, working my hips up and down for more friction.

"Oh god." I moan heatedly, continuing my speed until I feel my balls tighten. "Fuck, Lia baby. Suck on daddy's cock harder." I grunt as my hot seed spills all over my hand but I keep going, "You're a good girl, Lia. Fuck, oh… keep going." I murmur as I ride out my orgasm with a guttural growl.

I swear I hear a faint "yes sir" from the other room.

Her breathing is the same as before, but this time I can hear her moving around again. I bet her fingers are making lazy circles on her clit right now, her head thrown back in ecstasy and her back arched off her bed. I touch myself some more, playing with my balls a bit, "I want to know what it would feel like to have these slapping against your ass as I take you from behind." I groan lustfully. I'm reaching my second orgasm and I can hear her breathy moans through the wall. With another tug, I cum again in hot spurts.

With a sigh, I slump back against the door and wipe my hands off with some toilet paper. When I compose myself, I go over to the sink and wash my hands before putting on my lacrosse gear. I can't believe that just happened.

After I clean myself up, I rush out the door before we can see each other again and head to the field. When I get there, Coach is already out setting up drills. Did I forget to mention that my former Coach got a job offer somewhere else after the first week and Coach Finstock is the replacement?

"Uh Coach, Stiles won't be able to make it to practice today."

Coach looks me over with disinterest, "And why the hell not? Too tired out from tickling his banana before practice?" He mocks and I clam up a bit considering that exactly what I was just doing.

"Actually, he has mono, sir."

He rubs his chin, "The kissing bug? That means Stilinski is actually getting some… didn't know he had it in him. Good for him, well not really, you know what I mean." He rambles and rattles my shoulders, "You boys are like sons to me." He preaches proudly with a hint of sarcasm. It brings a smile to my lips. I don't mind, I know he means well.

I work on shooting for about an hour when the rest of the team shows up. Practice goes on as normal, a bunch of sweaty guys pressed way too close together in the unforgiving sun that loves to come out at exactly 3:00. Beads of sweat roll off my body and I'm already smelly from my old practice clothes. I throw off my shirt and twist it until all the sweat drips out of it. Throwing the shirt over my shoulder, I crane my neck a full 90 degrees when Malia comes walking down the path to the track, passing all the guys in a pair of short shorts and a see-through tank top that exposes her still taut nipples. My growing erection seems to not be able to catch a break. Her husky, brown eyes meet mine in a lingering gaze and a salacious smirk breaks across the same lips that I'd pictured around my cock not even an hour and a half ago.

She goes over to her coach, probably explaining a made up story about her accident and how she couldn't participate for a couple of days. Fiona stops running when she sees Malia and rushes over to her flaunting her flat stomach and subtly pushing her tits up as she approaches. Seems she's died her hair a rich red, it looks good on her. A lot darker than Lydia's soft, strawberry blonde. The red ringlets frame her face and the rest is wildly thrown up in a messy ponytail. She winks at Malia upon arrival and throws her arm around her shoulders, "When are you coming back to practice? You know I only run behind you to stare at your ass, right?"

Coach Phillips leers suggestively at the girls' and where their conversation is going before walking away to watch the rest of his team finish their mile warm up. Hm, I side-eye him a little bit but ultimately decide to let it go.

I chuckle at Malia's shocked expression and keep listening. Malia smirks, "And to think I was under the impression that you were only using me to get to Scott."

Fiona giggles girlishly, "I go both ways, sweets." She smirks back, batting her eyelashes shamelessly.

Malia looks over at me where we meet eyes and then turns back to Fiona, "I'm sure Scott could be talked into it."

"You think?" Fiona mutters dreamily.

"Yeah or maybe just you and him while I'm in the room. That'd be kind of hot." Malia teases with no real weight behind her suggestion. She leans into Fiona's ear, "Between you and me, I get off on listening to other people fuck while I watch." She continues to reel in an immensely aroused Fiona. She looks back at me and winks.

At this point, I'm grinning like a lunatic. I can't believe she just went there.

Just when the conversation is getting good, one of the guys on my team, Greg, leers at Malia's exposed legs and lets out a low whistle, "I'd slid my dick into that hot piece of ass any day." He murmurs crassly to another guy on the team as the two continue to gawk at her. This catches the attention of the other guys on the team who follow their lead.

A growl threatens to spill from my lips, "Actually she's spoken for, Gregory." I glare into his eyes as he looks a little embarrassed by being called out by his full name.

He shakes it off, "By who? You, McCall? Yeah right, no sexy thing with a tight little body like that would settle for a wetback like you." He sneers hatefully. Our confrontation seems to have sparked a lot eyes from the different surrounding sports teams.

I'm ready to pummel the shit out of him and I pounce when he's off his guard. My fist collides with his jaw until I draw blood. Red splattered drops cover my face like paint but I keep going, the pain in my knuckles on the back burner as my anger spurs me on. "You don't get to disrespect me, but you sure as hell don't get to disrespect her." I seethe. Some of my teammates wrestle me off of him and I give into their weight pulling me up. I sneer in his direction and Greg just laughs, "I knew you immigrants were just dirty savages." He spews while spitting in my direction.

Malia must of heard what he said because next thing I know, she comes strutting over with murder in her eyes. She's toe to toe with Greg, but he still has a couple of inches on her, not that she cares. "What the hell did you say to him? She full out snarls, spit flying from her mouth, "Careful Gregory, your white privilege is showing."

"What are you defending him for? He's probably undocumented and doesn't deserve to touch that body of yours. Races shouldn't mix, it's unnatural." He says straight-faced, a whole lot of prejudice falling from his lips. At this point, my body is shaking with rage.

Malia cocks a brow, "Did your mother give birth to you anally, because there's a whole lot of unnecessary shit coming out of your mouth."

He shrugs off her insult, "All I'm saying is that white people should stick to their own kind, you don't want to muddy up your blood line. The last thing you want is mix-breeds you'd call your children being seen at the table during dinner parties."

If fire could come out of your ears, that would be Malia right now. Her jaw is permanently fixed in a hinged position. I can tell she's close to the edge of losing it. Without warning, she pulls her arm back and delivers a clean left hook to Greg's cheek. She must of used all her strength because the sickening crack of his bone shattering cuts through the air as he falls to the ground in a hysterical mess.

"You're fucking psycho, bitch!" He moans while clutching his broken face.

She smirks, moving around her bruised knuckles as she wiggles her fingers in a wave, "Actually, I'm half Latina, bitch." She chuckles humorlessly bending down to his height, "Now that I'm on your level I thought it would be nice of me to warn you this time, spew that racist bullshit in my vicinity again and I promise I'll fuck you up a lot worse than a broken face. And before you threaten me with a lawsuit using daddy's money, think about this. Do you really want to go home to Pops and let him know that you got beat up by a girl?"

Pride swells in my chest. That's a fucking woman. That's my woman.

The other guys laugh at his mortified expression. Even Coach joins in, seeing that Malia is able to handle herself.

She walks over to me and cradles my bloodied face in her hands, "Are you okay?" She whispers, still heated from before. Her fiery brown eyes soften when I look into them. I wrap my hands around her wrists that cup my face, "Yeah I'm fine, you should of seen the other guy." I smirk lazily. She laughs at that.

"You're the most amazing woman I've ever met." I reply honestly. Did it hurt to be ostracized and hated on because of my skin? Yes. But Malia defending me worked better than anything I had done. It's then and there that I realize she's a true ride or die. If I ever decide to take this to the next step with her, it's all or nothing. Risk it all and take the chance of losing it all as well.

"It's sweet that you defended my honor, McCall." She muses with her sultry brown eyes stripping me naked with just a look. My mind flashes back to the room and she must have been thinking about it as well. Her arousal hits my nose so hard it almost brings me to my knees. Who knows where things would go from there.

I'm not exactly opposed to public sex, I doubt she is either. It seems were both kind of kinky like that. With that in mind, it's definitely not a thought I need to be entertaining. Especially with all my teammates still looking at her like she's a piece of meat. I glare in their direction and they quickly avert their eyes.

My chin rest on top of her head, "Once we figure out how to find Lydia, I'm ordering Chinese tonight, my treat. We'll most likely put the plan into action tomorrow anyways if I can hold Stiles off from running to save her without us. Make a list of what you want or text it to me. I'll rent some movies or we can binge watch Netflix, anything you want. I just want you to know how much this meant to me and how much I appreciate you." I look at her sincerely. Her warm body melts into mine when she pulls me into a hug and the sounds of my teammates clapping behind us make us both chuckle.

I grin, "Yeah yeah, fuck off, guys." I mumble affectionately.

Two guys pick Greg up off the field and bring him over to the sidelines.

As they slink past Coach mutters savagely, "If it wasn't obvious, Gregory, you're off the team." He blows his whistle and the other guys line up for the next drill. He winks at me and blows his whistle again, "Alright McCall, show's over. You're pretty little girlfriend needs to leave. We can't have you all distracted, not if you're going to make first line by the game Friday."

My face lights up at his comment and Malia's cheeks redden at the throwaway girlfriend part. "I'll see you at home." I smile, moving a loose strand of hair behind her ear.

She grins, "I'll try not to pee with the door open."

I laugh and run back over to the field with the boys. She waves good bye and takes off back towards the dorms.

ALLISON POV:

Isaac sits on my bed when I get back to the room, I had given him a key just in case of emergencies. And this was definitely an emergency. All it takes is one look and we meet half way, running into eachother's arms. My lips instantly find his, I kiss down his neck and jaw until I find his sweet spot. I suckle on the pale skin there, hoping this will progress into some much needed sex. With Lydia on my mind, I could use a distraction.

I fall into his lap and continue nibbling on his bottom lip and palm his erection through his pants.

He moans at the contact, "Allison-Allison, wait stop. You're upset, I think we should take this slow." He suggests, somewhat reluctantly.

I look at him disbelievingly, "You don't want to fuck me, Isaac?" This is a conversation we've had for a while. Sure we'd fooled around a bit, but I was ready for the next step. It was hard for me for a long time after Scott. He was my first… well first everything. That attachment doesn't just go away. I know I put up a strong face in front of him and Malia, but sometimes I just miss him in a way that only he can fulfill. Don't get me wrong, I fully endorse them being together. I love Malia and I think she fits him in ways that I never could. I'm just not as nonchalant about it as I put off. I don't want Scott back but I know I gave up a great guy and I wonder if that was the right decision sometimes. It's complicated.

Isaac's ocean blue eyes rake over my body and I feel his appraisal seep through my clothes as wetness drips down my thighs. His come-hither eyes burn into my gaze, "You know I do." He groans bitterly, running his long piano playing fingers through my chestnut hair. "I just don't want you to regret it. I want our first time together to be special. You worrying about Lydia will take away from that, you need time to reflect on everything that's happened."

I sigh, "Erica and Boyd are lucky they're doing that study abroad program in the next couple of weeks. They get to leave this shit-fest behind and cozy up together in London with Boyd's extended family. I guess that's why they've been so distant from us lately, maybe it makes saying goodbye easier."

Isaac nods his head and ponders over what I said. In a sneak attack, he grabs me around the waist and throws me on the bed, my giggles ring through the room. "You know I can't get enough of you, Miss Allison Argent."

My grin grows at his sentiment. I throw my shirt off to expose my lacy purple bra. With a teasing bite of my lip I grab him by the back of his neck and shove him face first into my tits, "No, I think I've forgotten." I mumble breathless, "Can you remind me?"

Our moans fill up the space of the room.

LYDIA POV:

Faded voices calling my name. Eerily silent until I wake to their screams. Something's coming. Something's coming. They're in my head.

Lydia

I jolt awake and hit my head on something hard above me. I'm surrounded by a sea of darkness, no sense of direction and only my waning sense of awareness keeping me lucid. The feeling of flesh ripping apart causes me to hiss in pain. Clutching my shoulder I cry out, my teeth biting down hard on my busted lip. Blood gushes from the cut, a new wave of nausea hitting me mixed with the metallic scent of blood rushing to my nose. Though I can't see it, I imagine the red, muggy trails drenching my clothes and skin, the rich red-brown camouflaging into my hair.

We're moving. Driving, perhaps. I think I'm in a van.

I rub my bleary, green eyes that fall blind in my captivity. "Where the hell are they taking me?"

Think Lydia, what happened?

Liam took off one way, and I in the other direction. My heels clack against the concrete. Shit, I think I forgot my wallet on the table. I rush back over and see that the table is empty… maybe Liam picked it up? I run off in the direction he had taken off in, or at least as best as I can with these heels.

Most of campus is deserted. A lot of students took this time with the school being shut down to mourn Emery, catch up on homework, or just sleep in. I'm too busy juggling honors classes that don't take a break even in the wake of a murder and most other time I had spent with Kira.

I catch a flash of dirty blonde hair and gray joggers going around the corner into the alley, must be Liam.

I pick up my pace, "Liam, did you grab my-" I stop in my tracks when I see him pressed up against the brick wall by his throat. The figure wears a distorted clown mask, the mouth part ripped out to accommodate a silvery, sharp teeth that glint in the sunlight. The razor tips make me shudder, the thought of how they could slice into my flesh so easily as if I were made of butter.

"Let him go." My leveled voice falters slightly, teetering on warning, but still exuding the pose of a diplomat. I'm known for being able to talk my way out of situations.

Liam splutters a cough as the figure crushes on his windpipes, "Lydia… go, please."

"I'm not leaving you." I state as in the matter is not negotiable, my face falling in a deadpan. The man watches us with interest, the exposed part of his mouth falling in to a creepy, lustrous smile.

His head falls to one side, the clown mask only adding to his threatening presence. He smirks at me, big and ugly. For once in my life, I wonder what it would be like to be in the mind of a killer. "How much do you care about him? Are you willing to take his place, Little Bird?" He hisses with baleful undertones sending chills down my spine. His voice rings through my ears like nails on a chalkboard. He eyes me like I'm a sugary sweet. A perfect strawberry ripe for the picking.

I try to stall him for as long as possible. Hopefully someone will walk by at some point, but honestly I'm not sure if that is desirable either. If I give in now, less chance of death. I don't want blood on my hands because I'm scared.

"Why are you doing this? We've done nothing to you, so what's your angle? What do you get out of terrorizes us?" I question trying to keep the skittishness out of my tone. He can probably smell my fear, no point in entertaining his sick fantasy any more than I already have.

He shrugs, "Maybe I just love the thrill of it all. Maybe I'm just a terrible person." He drops Liam to the ground and moves with quick ease directly into my personal space with his hot breath fanning my face, his nose gliding up my neck until he reaches my ear, "Maybe I just can't help myself." He groans, his tongue tracing the shell of my ear.

I stumble back out of his embrace, disgusted. My jaded, green eyes stare into his soulless, black orbs, "Not all monsters do monstrous things, it doesn't have to be this way. Let us help you." I coddle, my voice showing sympathy but my mind having anything but. I can tell this man is an abuser, a sadistic one. If I do this now, I don't know if I will come back the same person. If I even come back at all. I don't know what would be worse, being abused and raped or being saved my friends only for them to realize that they wouldn't be able to put back together my disheveled pieces.

"I don't need to be saved. I like what I do. I feed off of the screams… the pain… the blood. Time's ticking, Little Bird. What will it be, you-" He turns to slumped Liam against the wall, "Or him."

Please don't find me guys, you won't like what you see.

"Take me, not him. I'm the one you really want."

He stalks me with his eyes as his tongue peeks out to lick his lips, "Can't argue with that."

Liam regains some of his strength, but his voice comes out hoarse from the bruises that coat his skin, "No! Take-take me instead. She's not supernatural. She's breakable, she won't be of any use to you. You break her once and she's broken for good. I'll heal. You can play with me, torture me, whatever. Something sturdier, durable. You can have more fun with me."

"Liam…" I sigh in anguish. Even if we're the same age, I've always seen him as more of a little brother than anything. I'd always watch out for him, and him me. I won't let him do this for me, lie for me. I have more power than he realizes.

Before anymore words can leave my lips, another figure comes out from the shadows…it's a girl around our age.

"Get down!" She shouts, her voice commanding authority. Her brown sugar skin glows in the sun like a saving grace. Holding an impressive, albeit scary looking gun in her hand, she shoots at the masked-man.

Bullets fire one after the other like it's raining gunpowder. The shots seem to hold him off, but they don't bring him down. What is this guy?

I run over to Liam and pull him into my arms, "Are you okay?"

He nods stiffly, his throat most likely too painful to move. He groans out, "Are you okay?"

I nod back with teary eyes and pull him closer, "This isn't going to end well." I whisper in this ear, "So I want to say thank you now. Tell Allison I love her and Stiles and Kira that I'm sorry. Can you do that for me, Liam?" I plead. Before he can answer I crush him tighter in my grasp with a kiss on the cheek and race over to help the girl. Probably wasn't a great idea. A stray bullet grazes my side and I gasp in shock.

"Lydia?" She screams, taking the opportunity to help me while the man is down. She rips a piece of her shirt and presses it against my wound.

I look at her questioningly, "Who are you really?"

She grits her teeth in frustration, "Someone getting justice for Emery. I'm a hunter, Emery was my cousin." She pauses and looks up at me, "My name is Braedan, I know Scott."

My mouth falls in a line of mourning, "I'm so sorry." My face softens, I can't imagine what it must have been like to see those photos of Emery. "How do you know Scott?"

Braedan shakes in her crouched position, "Unfortunately sorry won't bring her back. But this-" She points to her gun, "-this can make me feel a little better about it. And I'm the RA for the dormitory Scott lives in. We've text a few times."

The man gets up to attack and Braedan reloads, firing another round of bullets. The ground is a river of dark black blood and some of my own disappearing in it. Braedan is holding her own, able to take on the attacker until she makes a wrong move and he has her on her back. Her body splashes in the dark blood like a scene from a movie. She stares into his eyes the match the blackness dripping from her face. His long talons raise to slash her throat and she has her eyes closed in anticipation. Without conscious thought, a ear-splitting scream reverberates through my throat and bubbles up out through my lips. He flies from the intensity of the scream about 10 feet away, his back making a sickening crack against the brick wall, the lone dumpster catching his fall. He groans, rolling off the dumpster tops and colliding with the ground. After a second, his face lifts with glee, bloody teeth smiling at me, "You're not so helpless, are you, girl." He sneers with satisfaction. "Well that changes everything. The master will be very interested in you. Pity, I wanted you for myself. I think my wife would of loved a piece of you, too."

I turn to Braedan, "We have to get out of here." I mutter urgently. Liam races over and we support her weight on our shoulders.

We turn to run but are stopped by a feminine figure in an equally creepy clown mask. I feel like I've just stepped into the Purge. "Boo." She spooks us with a deranged twist of her red painted lips to reveal her own pair of razor sharp teeth, "You're right honey" She says, directing her attention to the man behind us. She fondles a piece of my hair and curls it around her fingers, "She looks delicious." Giving a smirk, she directs her next comment at Braedan, "Emery sure was."

Reaching for the discarded gun, the woman beats Braedan to it and hits her upside the head with it, effectively knocking her out. She falls unconscious on the ground. She brings her attention back to us, mostly Liam, "You're cute" She coos, "But not on the menu for night." She giggles, taking him by the neck and slamming his head against the brick wall of the alley. He falls as well.

"My husband never gives me nicknames." She muses, looking me over cattily, "Little bird, hm. He must really like you."

I find a hint of courage, "Most guys do. Women too, but I'm not one to brag." I sass with an arch of my brow. I already know I'm going to be taken. It's going to hurt. No point in prolonging the inevitable.

"You're a mouthy one… I like that. They're usually the loudest screamers." She taunts and I feel a blow to my shoulder as the man's teeth clamp down and crunch on the bone. I scream on command.

She smirks, "See, I knew you'd scream. We're going to have so much fun together, Lydia."

I fall to the floor and blackened edges take over my line of sight as it closes in on me, "How- how do you know- know my name…?"

The van stops. I can't really hear anything anymore; no birds chirping, the breeze, not even the crunching of gravel underneath the wheels. The silence is maddening, something about it that scratches at my skin. The back doors bang open and it's still so dark. All I can see are faint, tepid torches that line the walls of that looks like a corridor of a hallway. The air is sparse, not the usual amount you would expect. Dirt squishes between my feet. My heels must have come off at some point, whether on my own accord or not, I decide to push aside before more thoughts circle my head.

"Wakey wakey, Little Bird. We're home."

The smell of mildew hangs in the air and the walls almost seem moist. Humidity bleeds through my flowing, white blouse. Once again, I see no windows. No indication of sunlight. Nothing in sight.

I flinch at the man's cold hand that runs down my spine and leads me further down the hall. More dirt coats my feet and ruins my pink-painted toes. That's when it hits me. Why there are no windows. Why the floor is made of dirt. Why the air seems to have thinned. We're not in plain view, we're underground.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Malia is kinky, huh? I want to thank TheFlashFics94 for generously helping me out and taking over Malia's masturbation scene because I was too embarrassed to do it lol. I gained some courage and finished it off with Scott's moment lmao. Go check out her fic, "Til Forever Runs Out" and her Thiam fic "Howling"! LEAVE LOTS OF REVIEWS PLEASE. I was so pleased with the number of reviews on the last chapter so I sped up the creative process to get this out to you guys faster. Send me some love!


	9. Hand Prints All Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Waves" Dean Lewis

LYDIA POV:

The ivory clasp that kept my hair in place now hides behind my back. My rough hands sit bloody and torn behind me as I wrestle with the russet chains that hold me in place. The man from before, let's call him Bloody Face. His clown mask hangs loosely against his face, just enough to wear I can make out the deepening black eyes that glare hollow back. He sits in a broken chair in front of me a couple feet away. And he just stares.

He's been staring at me for hours.

A shudder runs electric down my spine like cold water being splashed on a circuit. He leers even more at that, the deformed red of his lips pulling back into a snicker.

He lightly taps his foot against the dirt floor, his head cocked to the side as he assesses me with cool indifference. "Penny for your thoughts, Little Bird?"

I tense up at the nickname. I'm still not sure why he calls me that. I clear my throat and force my eyes to meet his, "Why do you call me that?"

If anything, his grin seems to widen even more. He arches a brow and scoots his chair closer. I flinch, shuffling back against the dirty wall as best as I can. But in the end, there is no where to go. I'm trapped and escaping doesn't seem to be imminent.

He crouches lower until he's almost level with me, but still hanging high enough above my head to show who has the power. The intimidation tactic is working, I bite my lip until I draw blood and bite back the urge to push him away. His rough, calloused hand caresses my jaw, a red line of my own blood coating my porcelain cheek. My jade eyes meet his heavily and a single tear almost falls at the thought of what he is going to do next. Almost.

With one grimy thumb stroking my cheek, he moves down to lather my bottom lip with blood that clings to his finger, "I thought you'd never ask."

My jaw clenches and I roughly move out of his grasp.

A resounding slap echos off the hollowed walls.

The sting isn't even the worst part. It's the nipping of his sharp nails biting into my skin that hurts the most. Blood coats my tongue and fills my mouth. I spew it out onto the floor in hacking convulsions as I clutch my throat in my hands. The blood mixes with the earthy dirt, resembling a muddy red. I don't think I've ever seen a color so ugly.

He tsks in my direction, "That wasn't very nice. Good girls listen to their masters. Bad girls, however, get punished." He says seriously, his black eyes devouring me. "Now I know we're in California, but I'm from the South. My mother raised me like a good Christian boy who loved pretty girls in frilly dresses, a real Belle. Now Lydia," He says, turning to face me this time as he takes my jaw in his hold again. His hot breath makes me gag as bile rises in my throat, "How about you show me a little bit of some Southern hospitality."

I nod my head mutely and cringe when I lift my head to face him again.

He smirks at that and glares down at my lips again before he meets my eyes, "Good girl. See, that wasn't so hard, was it?" He inspects me a little further and chuckles to himself, "I guess you're friend was right. You're pretty breakable, this would be more fun if you were more… flexible.

I nod again with steadfast movements. My green eyes level with him, "Can you tell me why you called me Little Bird?"

He chuckles and takes a seat back on his chair, picking up a large hunting knife up off the floor. That knife has already inflicted plenty of damage on my body. A stab wound on my side, one on my shoulder, another deep indention on the small of my back. I lost consciousness between the times he would play with me like I was his own personal Barbie doll. I remember his slimy hands crawling up my skirt, the other hand skimming my neck, my breasts, my thighs. I remember the pain of him stitching me up and the vomit-inducing hard on he sported through his dark-washed jeans.

My deadened eyes seem to fall heavier at the memory. It's already horrible to be molested, but it's even worse to feel the unwanted feeling of a man's hands on my flesh. The hand prints on my body feel like a branding, an initiation. It's my identity being stripped away and the fear of wondering if he knows I'm into girls and that's what makes this all the more fun for him. The thrill of cracking me open like a spilled egg yolk, my dignity falling splat on the ground. What if he's trying to train me, manipulate me. Those bruised, callous hands will never be Kira's. Or even Stiles'. They could never be so gentle.

He chuckles at my discomfort but decides to have mercy on me, moving back a few inches. Fondling a piece of my strawberry-blonde hair, he looks off into the distance, almost dreamily. "When I saw you in that alley, I saw something free; boundless, hope-filled, bright. There's nothing quite like the attraction to light, the luminescence of a beautiful woman is a drug in itself." He ruffles my hair and wipes the blood from my split lip, "But you see, I'm not always the most patient man. Not very passive. I'm more of a fighter than a lover. I like to break things, the unraveling of the mind and body is so fascinating to me."

I continue to listen to him explain with fear creeping up my spine.

He shakes his head and has the audacity to smile, "Bruises are beautiful. Blood, too. That's why I've cut you so much. The blood, it's… Enthralling." He fingers another piece of my hair comparing it with the sticky dried blood on his hands, "I think It brings out the red in your hair." He says offhandedly, scanning my face with a creepy sense of hope in his deranged gaze.

I muster up the courage to press him, "I- I don't understand." I try to keep my voice even, but it falls flat.

He sinks into the spot beside me, staring blatantly at my bite. He raises his eyes to meet me when he realizes I'd caught him looking, "You were beautiful before but I see you now; blood-stained, bruised, and beaten. You're a masterpiece, and I'm the artist. I saw the potential in you, the desire and freedom that all baby bird's possess. But here you are now, still fragile, but now contained. You're a bird without feathers, without wings. Once I've broken you just enough, I can keep." He says, almost child-like, the sense of delusion coming off his words making me fall silent. "Malia is the one I'm really after, but you caught my attention. I've been watching you, Lydia." He says softly, as if that was in any way suppose to be romantic.

I shiver in my spot and feel urine slide down my legs as tears well up in my eyes. What if I never get out of this place, what if I never get to go home. "Please let me go…" I whisper as hot tears sting my eyes.

He shushes me and puts his arm around my shoulder which makes me instantly scoot away. He forcibly leans my head on his shoulder and pets my hair, "Don't worry, you'll come around to the idea in time. We'll be one big happy family, you, my wife, and I. The master said so. This will all be okay once I put Malia down. Next, Kira. Maybe Allison after. And then Stiles."

A gasp leaves my lips and I shuffle away, scuttling as far as I can with my wrists still captive. "Don't hurt them."

"Oh Little Bird, I'm not going to hurt them. I'm going to kill them."

THEO POV:

Tight-lipped with a hint of annoyance, I take my seat. Liam hangs behind chatting up some dark-haired Latina near the door. He's smiling with his eyes, the sea-foam blue alight… it's disgusting, really. It would probably be more annoying if I actually thought he was into her. I can't really take him seriously when his heart upticks whenever I walk in a room or when he catches me staring, a faint blush rushing to his cheeks. The pup is anything but convincing.

Regardless of my irritation, rifle through my backpack and wait for Ms. Osbourne to walk through the door. Liam finally sits down beside me with an irritatingly handsome smirk on his face. I ignore it for a while until I can't stand it and turn towards him, "Is there a reason you're still smiling like an idiot or are you just gobsmacked that the brunette couldn't tell that you're a twink?" I say levelly, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice.

He turns to me with an eye roll, "You jealous?"

My brow raises on its own accord, "Of a girl who probably doesn't know the first thing about pleasing a man? Doubtful." I mutter casually, but my grey eyes darken. I shift away from him and focus on the teacher just as Liam's about to most likely hand out a half-assed apology.

Mrs. Osbourne's heels clack against the tile floor.

Liam sniffs the air testingly, his dark brows scrunching together with a hint of confusion.

Sensing his apprehension, I focus in on his reaction to see what's wrong… even if he is being kind of a prick. Caring doesn't cease to exist, even when you want it to. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

He doesn't look at me for a moment, his eyes glued to the front. "Uh- nothing. I just- I thought- I just got this weird feeling, like deja vu. Forget it." He says, grabbing the pencil he was chewing on and poised it behind the shell of his ear.

Shrugging off his shortness, I let it go. Mrs. Osbourne's hair is held up by chopsticks, her wild, mane of curls falling into a messy bun on top of her head. Her aristocrat glasses sit on top of her nose and she rifles through her messy stack of papers. She glances up and makes eye contact with me, "Theo, I received your test shots last night, they're very impressive." Her eyes shift to Liam and she smirks, "What an interesting muse you have. Very innovative and raw. I was thinking about keeping a copy for an art show coming up if you'd be interested."

I chuckle at her indiscreet gab at Liam but I have to admit I'm taken by surprise, "Yes ma'am, I'd be honored."

"Great." She muses, moving back over to Liam with a quirk of her lips, "The darkroom will be open tonight if you're wanting to use the enlarger, chemical baths, and hang your photos to dry." She ticks off on one hand before her eyes narrow in on me with a hint of secret. "I see potential in you, Mr. Raekan. I'll be keeping an eye on you."

I feel Liam shift beside me and I peer over at him and then back at Mrs. Osbourne, "Thank you for the opportunity, Ma'am." I grimace slightly. Her eyes continue to rake over me before inevitably pulling them away. Liam's hand clenches around my thigh and I jump slightly in my seat.

I lean in to whisper something in his ear but his blue eyes silence me. He nudges my shoulder and flickers his gaze down to underneath the desk and my eyes follow. A crumpled piece of paper lays strangled between his hand. I run my thumb over his tensed forearm, my fingers trailing down his hot skin to unfurl his hand.

He looks down at our hands and his eyebrows soften slightly, the creases that lie between them not longer resembling mountains, but now shallow valleys. He nods towards the note in his hands and I carefully take it from him. I unroll the crumpled paper, "Don't ask me questions right now. I'll explain later."

Trying to be inconspicuous, I pocket the note in the back of my jeans.

SCOTT POV:

Fiona sashays over after our respective practices end. "Hey McCall, I've got a proposition for you. I'm just going to cut to the chase, you're hot- Malia's definitely hot." She bites her lip with hooded-lids, "I need one good fuck." She shrugs casually, rising on her tip toes to brush her nose against mine, "I think we could do bad things together, Scott."

A hot flash runs up the back of my neck, "I'm not impartial to a casual fuck." I chuckle, rustling my damp brown hair, "But I am partial to Malia. She may not be mine, but maybe one day she might be. I'm not big on sharing."

"I don't want a boy friend, Scott. I want a distraction. And I have a feeling that you're going to need one too with that one around. I can't believe Malia hasn't jumped your bones yet."

"Not from a lack of trying." I tease with a small grin, "We're friends. It was my idea, I was under some stupid delusion that I can be fine with that. But now," I pause, replaying the masturbation incident from earlier, "I guess I could let off some steam."

Her red, claw-like nails crawl up my chest, "I think I could be of some use." She smirks, looking up at me through her lashes, "I'll even let you call me Malia. I'm not against role-playing."

My brown eyes heat up at her words, "I don't think anyone could measure up to Malia in my eyes." I reply honestly. I need her to know that this is just for fun, no strings attached. The last thing I need is Fiona catching feelings. I promised myself that I wouldn't be that guy anymore, but the redhead is tempting my resolve.

Her hand leaves my chest and falls to the waist band of my jeans. I do a quick scan to see if anyone is watching, but it seems that we're the only two left on the field and track. Her index finger traces the line of my boxers, "I like a challenge." She winks and walks off.

I make it back to the room sooner rather than later. I sniff out Malia instantly, but what really alerted me was the sound of her peeing. With the door open.

I walk by the door trying to make it to the bedroom without incident when she calls out to me. "Hey Scott, could you get me a tampon?" She chuckles amusedly when I peek at her from between my hands.

A smirk tickles the corner of her mouth and her eyes do that thing that makes instantly makes me hard. She really heard everything I said, huh? Note to self, don't go spilling all your cards to unconscious girls, chances are they will come back to haunt you with it. Women always find everything out.

Her smile widens when she takes in my stance, my mouth falling in a grimace from the sound of her peeing while also somehow still being turned on by her. She reaches her hands between her legs to wipe herself, looking back up and seeing me still watching with a look of hesitance. She averts her attention to her pussy and giggles with an arched brow while widening her legs a little more, "Want a taste?" She murmurs temptingly with her sharp brow arched suggestively, "Or are you just going to stand there staring at me? Friends don't look at friends like they're something to eat, Scott." Her smirk widens, "Unless you're offering?"

My face heats up at her appraisal, her earthy brown eyes falling on my erection poking against my jeans. I bite my lip in contemplation, dirty thoughts only a second away from falling from my lips, but I shove them away.

Gentleman. Gentleman. Gentleman.

"I have to get to work, but maybe another time." I whisper heatedly. I can smell the gush of arousal that drips down her thighs. My hands itch to touch her, to carve my fingers into the crevices of her hips and dip my index finger into her warm pussy, lather her clit with her juices as she purrs for me. I'd run lazy circles over her skin and plunge into her again before licking every part of her clean off my fingers, just the way I know she'd like it. Malia's a freak, that much is obvious. If those nipple clamps were anything to go by, I'd say she likes being spanked, too.

The mood shifts and the tension cuts between us, thick and palpable. I move into her space, producing a tampon. I make sure to brush my thumb over hers when I pass it to her, my mouth unnecessarily close to hers, "Rain check?" I murmur coolly as her mouth opens in a phantom semblance of a moan.

Her burnished gold hair falls over one of her eyes as she squeeze her legs shut in anticipation. She looks like she's about to say something but then decides better of it, turning and looking away.

I leave the room to let her finish her business. I plop on the bed with a sketchbook in my hands, my charcoal pencils, a basin of colored pencils, and my reading glasses. My long legs hang over the side of the bed and my curls fall in my face. I push them back with a sigh, dropping my materials on the bed and pressing the pillow Malia had thrown at me the other night over my eyes. I inhale spicy cinnamon and a hint of vanilla, a muted version of what she'd smelled like a couple minutes ago.

I hear her moving around in the bathroom and I stare at the wall that connects the bathroom to ours. A few minutes later she crawls into her bed sighing as she hits the sheets. She turns to face me with her elbow propped up on her chin. Her sienna eyes capture my attention. Usually she would smile when this happens, when we could just look at each other and not really need to say anything. But now she stares at me perplexed, a serious look taking over her features, "I think we should talk about it." She blurts out, her wide eyes stunning me with their openness.

At first I'm drawing a blank.

"About what?"

She growls lowly, her lips curled in a frown. She reaches into her pillow and pulls out her pair of nipple clamps and chunks them at me, "Ring any bells? Come on Scott, I'm not Boo Boo the Fool, you know what I'm talking about, you just want to hear me say it." She chuckles, biting her lip in embarrassment.

I catch the nipple clamps and a shiver wracks my spine as I run my fingers over them. Could I convince her to wear these for me again?

I shrug with a soft expression, "It's okay Lia, we really don't have to talk about it if it makes you uncomfortable. I should of said something sooner… let you know that I was in the room. That was disrespectful of me and I'm sorry."

She holds her breath and lets it out. With a vulnerability I'm not used to seeing on her, she holds my gaze, "What if I wanted you to see me?" She asks brazenly, her long, slender fingers teasing the curve of her breasts, the sides slightly visible through her tank top. My eyes follow the trail of her hands and I gulp to hold back a groan. "Lia, we can't-"

She interrupts me, "You're right, it was a stupid idea." She mutters quietly, her eyes taking on a glossy brown as she stares at the door as if planning her mode of escape. I can feel her shutting down, hiding from me. "I guess I just thought- I don't know what I was thinking, actually. I didn't think it'd ever really get this far."

"What get this far?" I ask.

"You," She deadpans, covering her eyes with her hair as a shield. I move over to her side of the bed and cup her face with both hands, smoothing my thumbs over her cheeks, "What are you saying, Lia? You can talk to me."

Her lashes flutter and her pink mouth falls open to catch her breath. Those eyes sink into me like with the warmth of a hand beneath my clothes and for once I don't fear the thought of enjoying it, "You've gotten underneath my skin, Scott." She breathes earnestly, her whiskey-gaze tracing the outlines of my face like she's saving the memory for later. I stagger at that, my voice faltering to a point where I'm unable to come up with a response. There's so much I wanted to say. So much.

She chuckles slightly at my stunned expression, running her fingers though her whimsical hair before finding my eyes again, "I like the way you look at me sometimes," She starts off shyly, her voice quieting like she's afraid someone will overhear. The idea muses across her face as softness seeps into her pores, " It's always the same, shy and half-cocked like you're trying to match a song lyric to my name." She ponders with a furrowed brow. I look down at the bed and the skin of her thigh brushes mine, "Sometimes that look fools me into believing maybe one day I could let go of the reins, just a little. That maybe I can take some of the weight off of my tired shoulders and just be me. Even not knowing you long, I feel the most like me when I'm with you. The me I want to be."

I can't keep the smile off my face when she says that. If I'm being honest, I'd wondered for a while if she was beginning to catch on. Even with the million things I want to say, I have to censor myself. One look from her and my mouth will go spilling words without regard for what the consequences could be. I've let my candor get the best of me before, but I really don't want to mess this up. She's gotten underneath my skin, too. She's in my veins.

A small smile unravels across my face, "Roommates aside, if you were anyone else I would of taken you right then and there and shown you how good it can really be." I chuckle, "Nipple clamps. Those are really sexy, by the way. I like my women a little kinky." I tease her playfully.

Her dark brow arches, "Am I your woman now, Scott."

The sexual-heavy atmosphere is back, but it's not the same charge as before. It feels… softer. Private. More intimate.

Dark eyes bleed into mine, so many things unsaid. But I didn't need words, we never needed them.

She breaks the moment when she giggles and lightly shoves against my chest. I catch it in my grasp, "Just not when you're on your period." I smirk cheekily.

She gasps, pulling her hand free and wrapping both arms around my neck with both our legs sitting Indian style with our knees touching.

She uses her most suave voice, "The only thing a period stops is a sentence, McCall." She continues to laugh with a little wink. I smirk as I watch her in her element, drunk on laughter and tears springing to her eyes. She giggles some more and lets out a snort.

I tap her on the nose and she beams, "More kinkiness?" I chime in.

"Always." She sasses, blooping me on the forehead.

I shake my head with a look of disbelief, "Did you just bloop me, woman?" I joke, acting offended and she moves to do it again.

I catch her off guard and tackle her to the bed, pinning her below me with her arms above her head with her shoulders touching the headboard.

Her eyes smolder me just begging for me to dominate her. Her breath hitches, "I also have a pair of handcuffs if you're up for making good on your word, earlier." She whispers, words dripping with arousal, "I should let you know now that I have a choking kink." She says, and by what I can tell, only half-joking.

I lean down against her with a heavy look, one hand holding her wrists hostage and the other tracing her jaw gilding over the soft skin and pulling her closer. "I'm breaking all my rules with you." I start hesitantly. One wrong move and it's all over, I'll have her face down, ass up, and cumming all over my cock with her moaning profanities as I take her from behind.

"I'm a bit of a thrill-seeker." She admits, her eyes burning holes into my face like hot coals in a furnace.

"But that's the thing," I begin, "I'm not in this for the moment, I'm in this with you for the long haul."

Her heavy-lidded eyes stare back at me in awe.

I crawl off of her and grab my sketch book and other utensils, throwing them into a bag. Stopping at the door, I turn back to face her. Her eyes haven't left me since I walked away. I feel her emotions melting into me and like the coward I am, I shove them down and refuse to meet her eyes, "I'm sorry, Lia, I've got to get to work. Call me if you need anything, I'll see you at Stiles' room later.

The only sound I hear when I'm leaving is the sound of her breathing.

STILES POV:

Kira isn't a girl of many words. But the ones that do come out can be a tad sardonic, her sarcasm rivaling my own.

She hasn't said anything else for a while. The silence coupled with the awkward eye contact we've made every so often was enough to make me stand rigid in front of my detective board. Green, yellow, and red strings strings hang from the dry chalk board in a knotted disarray. Green is for solved. Yellow for progress. And red is for 'I have no clue'. I'm mostly using red.

A heavy cough cuts through my mindless foot tapping. "So how long have you been in love with Lydia?" Kira inquires casually, flicking a piece of magenta hair over her shoulder.

The question catches me off guard and I feel my body tense up at the question, "You sure don't beat around the bush. I guess I see why you and Malia are friends."

She arches a brow, frustration falling off of her in waves, "That's not an answer, Stiles."

I shrug my shoulders and turn back to the board, "It wasn't really meant to be an answer." I say, setting the chalk down and taking a seat on the ugly green chair that sits in the corner of the dorm. My grandfather has gifted it to my dad when he went off to college, and now he passed it down to me. It really is an eye sore, but it's quirky and unassuming. I like it.

"When are you going to start acting like a regular person with normal feelings and try cracking a smile every once in a while? You act all hard and put up this front, but you don't have to do that. Not with me. My feelings for Lydia in no way lessen my desire to have a friendship with you." I urge honestly, giving her a minute to take in what I said.

The hard lines of her face soften a bit, "Answering a question with a question, Stilinski?" She crosses her dainty arms over her chest and sighs, "You don't know me, Stiles. Your dad's a detective and you dig your nose in matters that aren't your business. All of your friends do. Does that automatically make you well-versed in the art of knowing how I feel or what I do?"

I brush off her insult with a try at good faith, "I'm good at reading people." I shrug, "That's how I know that you're not good at hiding."

Her dark eyes narrow, "What's that suppose to mean?"

"You've been mad at Malia for a while now. So spill."

She tenses. I guess she didn't expect me to call her out like that. I can tell she's not one too keen on surprises. She uncrosses her arms but corrects it by crossing her jean-clad legs, "What makes you say that?"

I move to the spot closer to where she's sitting. I run one hand over the other, a habit I'd picked up from my mom when she was nervous. "It's all body language, really. The look you gave her the night we found out about Emery. Why you are affected by the fact that Malia isn't holding a grudge over us kidnapping her. You guys don't seem to talk that often anymore."

With the deathly glare she sends me, I can tell I've ruffled a few too many feathers. "You little-"

I cut her off, "Don't dispute it. Like I said, I pay attention. I observe people; their interactions, looks, mood shifts. It's just who I was raised to be. And to answer your question from before, I've liked Lydia since the day I saw her in third grade. She came into class with her strawberry blonde hair curled in perfect pigtails. Some boys were trying to bully her and pull at her skirt and she punched the kid in the face. I knew she was something special, it was hopeless from then on." I smile fondly, remembering the memory as Kira listens with careful apprehension, "But when I really got to know her years later, I realized that I glorified my own idea of her, not who she actually is. I continued to chase after her but eventually one day I got the hint. She didn't feel that way for me and so I backed off."

Kira reaches out and puts her hand on my shoulder. No words pass between us for a while. Finally she looks up at me with a new-found understanding, "Sorry, I'm not really good at this whole playing nice thing." She stutters out with a little less sting than before.

A small grin slants across my lips, "I've noticed. None taken, I'm not the quickest to warm up to people either." I run my thumb over my lip, "If it's any consolation, Lydia is totally into you. She told me so not too long ago."

Her eyes light up at the mention of the redhead and a shit-eating grin takes place of her frown, "She is?"

I smile sadly, "Yeah, she is."

She bites her lip and her eyebrows sink, "I'm worried about her."

Running my hand over the back of my head, I mutter, "Yeah, me too. That's why we need to put our heads together so we can get her back. We don't have to be enemies, Kira."

She nods, getting up to grab a piece of chalk from the board with a look of determination, "Where do we start?"

LYDIA POV:

"Five, four, three, two, one  
Five, four, three, two, one

He holds the gun against my head  
I close my eyes and bang I am dead"

The rustling of the door opening wakes me. My eyes work to adjust to the light, having become use to swimming in darkness.

One of the goons from before rattles the lock and throws an unconscious girl to the ground. Upon further inspection, the faint light from a torch in the corridor catches her face.

Oh my god.

Cora Hale.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: Loved the overwhelming reviews! I'm sorry it took me so long and that this chapter is shorter, summer school is kicking my butt so updates will be sporadic. Leave me lots of love so I can drop in and leave you guys some goodies when I get time! LOVE YOU GUYS. OH MY GOSH THE SCALIA SHOWER SCENE AJKFHAKLSJDLSAKJKLAS WE ARE RISING GUYS. I LOVE WINNING. ENJOY.


	10. And Your Tears, A Sea For Me To Swim

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Push" Fog Lake & Home Alone

ALLISON POV:

Isaac had left a while ago. I would of asked him to stay a little longer, but I didn't want to seem clingy. At least not yet, anyway. He's not my boyfriend or anything, but I find myself kind of missing him.

There's a knock at the door. I pause Netflix and take out my earphones, half-jogging to get to it faster. There's another knock just as I'm about to open it. Damn, can't a

I swing the door open to find Malia standing before me with a colorful flyer in her hand, a pint of Ben and Jerry's, and apology sitting in her eyes that resembles my own.

My hip leans against the door frame as I wait for her to speak. At first, neither of us say anything until we both begin talking at the same time. We both glance at each other awkwardly and chuckle a bit. I clear my throat to break the ice.

"Hey, Malia." I start slowly, sizing up whether or not this would be a good conversation or a bad one. She looks beyond the gap in the door frame and then back at me. I nudge it open a little further with my big toe hidden in my fuzzy purple socks. "Do you want to come in?"

She smiles shyly, "That'd be great, actually."

The clunkiness of her combat boots thud against the floor and I squeeze my eyes shut when she passes. It was about time we talked about what happened. Things have been so weird without her around. I know it seems fast, but I've come to care about about her a lot. We have a lot in common, I've never had a friend quite so similar to myself.

She plops down on my bed with a sigh and gives me the look.

She smirks a little, "I saw Isaac walking around this place earlier, seemed like he'd just came from somewhere. I assumed that meant you were here." Her eyes run over me amused, "You're glowing, Isaac must have a magical cock."

I blush profusely at her observation with a slight chuckle. I scan her face, noticing she too had a radiant glow about her. "Seems I could say the same, you look like you have a secret you're waiting to spill. How have things been with Scott?"

Malia bites her lip while staring down at my mattress before looking back up at me. She picks the Ben & Jerry's off the side table and holds it before me with a strained smile, "I didn't come here to talk about Scott, though I did ask him what your favorite ice cream flavor is. Call it a peace offering, at least temporarily until I actually show you that I'm sorry. I overreacted. I don't know where my head's been lately."

She pulls out the flyer from before. The words 'NASTY GALS' presents itself across the front in cool, funky letters called by a slogan, "A woman's place is everywhere." She beams at my immediate reaction and wags it in front of my face, "I think I mentioned to you about wanting to start a feminist club. I was thinking about recruiting different women of color around campus, too. As well as you, Kira… and Lydia when we get her back. Theo is an amazing photographer, I thought maybe he could take some group shots. I think it would send a great message to the killer, that pussy bites back and we haven't forgotten about Emery."

My mood sours at the mention of Lydia. "I think it's a great idea and of course I want to join. I just- I don't think I can be all jung-ho about it until we get Lydia back. I'm terrified that I'll never see her again." I sulk, tears welling in my eyes, "And apology accepted even though there's nothing to even forgive. You had your reasons and I had mine."

Malia wipes the tears from my face that are beginning to fall, "Listen to me, Al. We're going to get her back, no matter what it takes. No one gets left behind here, not on my watch. Stiles and Kira have been coming up with a plan all day. She's going to be okay."

I place my hand over the hand that wipes my tears, "How can you know that, what if she's already dead?"

"She's not," She whispers quietly holding my eyes with a heavy look, "You'd feel it."

LYDIA POV:

Cora.

The door slams shut again. I can feel myself shaking, whether it's from the vibration of the door or the rattling of my bones, I'm not so sure. Slick, salty tears slip down my face, my eyes burning from the mascara residue that's caked underneath.

The hot flash of the bite on my side stings furious against my skin. It's subsided slightly over the course of the day… or is it night? I'm not really sure. Time kind of loses it's essence when you're being held captive underground.

I scoot towards Cora the best I can. Maybe it's not even her. Maybe I really am crazy. Maybe I'm hallucinating and this is my mind's way of protecting itself. By the look of my torn skirt and ruined bra, there's a lot I'd like to suppress. Cora's gilded eyes zero in on me with narrowed slits. She shuffles back a little bit, her face starkly white as though she's seen a ghost.

"Lydia?" She cries, her mouth falling open in a silent sob, "Why are you here?

Her voice quivers, no trace of the headstrong, fitful girl from before to be found. She is a ghost of her former glory, her body in tatters, the marks on her legs telling me that there are so many stories behind each one, so many horrors she's had to endure. I've only been here a little more than a day, but what about her?

"I was taken. Liam tried to save me, but I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. You left before you got to meet him. He's a good kid, kind of like a brother to me." My eyes leak over with more hot tears, my teeth biting into my bottom lip. I don't mean to stare, but my gaze inevitably attaches to the marks and bruises on her legs, "Did he touch you?"

She didn't even need to ask who 'he' was. She nods her head and frowns. With dirty hands, she wipes her tears and straightens up a bit. "I kind of became numb to it after a while."

I notice a similar welt on her wrist with a numbered branding to identify her. My own wrist holds it's own marking. Sometime after Bloody Face had vowed to kill my friends, he had singed me with an iron. It's a permanent fixture on my body now, a constant nagging reminder that I was raped and all anyone will ever see me as is a victim. Stiles will try to fix me, Allison probably coddle me. But Kira, I think she'd look at it and not see me as something broken, but as a survivor. I feel like she's been through a lot, things she has yet to tell me. But I don't mind waiting. I hope I get out of here and still have the chance to get to know everything about her.

I nod along with what Cora had said even though my insides burn with each word that passes her lips. The fact that she had to become accustomed to wayward hands on her body is enough indication that she's been here a while. I slump against the wall next to her letting out a sigh, "Where does Derek think you are?"

Her heavy look falls on me and my heart clenches for her. She wets her cracked lips, "Derek and I got in a fight when I left Beacon Hills to head to South America, petty differences that I don't even remember now. He wouldn't have come looking for me, I hadn't given him a reason to. I just wanted to get the hell away from that wretched town, and this is where I end up." She scoffs, rubbing the back of her hand over a soot-covered cheek, "You'll get out of here, Lydia. You have people who care, who are probably already looking for you. No one's even noticed that I've been gone."

I shake my head and my wavy red tendrils get caught in my mouth. I gag at the smell, the once glossy locks now lifeless, "You're wrong. You have people who care about you. We care about you." I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear and my voice softens, "Stiles cared about you."

A spark of life fills her eyes at the mention of his name. I'd seen that look before, but from a slightly different Hale.

She bears a startling resemblance to Derek, uncanny almost. It's strange seeing her so fragile, but I know that even vulnerable she is still a weapon with the sharpness of broken glass.

She pushes her dark hair out of her face. Cora's a pretty girl, the kind that doesn't make a big deal about itself. Her olive complexion, bee-stung lips, and sultry chestnut eyes come as one of the perks of being a Hale. Funnily enough, she reminds me of Malia.

The door jiggles again. I don't have to raise my eyes to feel Bloody Face's gaze on us. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing me afraid, I meet his leer head on with a snide look of my own. My lips furl back in a sneer but quickly falls, he seems to get off on it. He smirks at me before averting his eyes to Cora. She bares her teeth at him and lets out a low, menacing snarl. In that moment, she was a wild animal, one high off of the need to survive and not one to be taken down easily.

He takes a step towards me and Cora growls, moving her body in front of mine. He gives her a warning look, demanding her to stand down but she continues to growl. My hands find her hair and run my fingers through the loose waves to calm her down, "It's okay, Cora. Just do want he wants, it will be over soon enough."I whimper, my voice cracking in ways I never knew were possible. The stench of my urine hits my nose again and I remember how terrified I had been before. How humiliated I had been. The idea of being scared shitless that I actually peed myself. I hang my head as shame washes over me. My jade eyes flutter softly at the memory and squeeze shut, trying to keep the tears at bay. I try to take myself back to a happy place, a mystical memory. I see Kira's face behind my eyes; her charcoal-lavender hair, tempered smile, and the softness in her eyes she solely reserved for me. I think back to our last conversation, how I opened up to her. How she held me. How different hands have taken her place, burning into me in ways I'm not sure will ever go away. I've been imprinted upon, marked metaphorically and literally with a hot-poker iron. How do I ever recover from that?

I can feel a buzzing in my side. A white hot tingle that isn't necessarily painful, but kind of uncomfortable at the least. As if in tune with my thoughts, Cora turns to face me, her wolf eyes raking over my body to see if I'm okay. I nod subtly, knowing that Bloody Face is still watching us. I try to ignore it, but the feeling begins to bubble over, the pins-and-needles sensation encasing the whole left side of my body.

Bloody Face bends down to our level, his gaze running over Cora. "I want to play with Lydia over here, Little Wolf. You don't mind, do you?" He taunts, Cora's sharp fangs an inch from his face. The only thing stopping her from tearing him to shreds is the chains holding her hostage against the wall.

"Don't- touch- her." She hisses in between saliva flying off her canines and the sound of throaty growls clawing their way through her gritted teeth. Her honey eyes bleed blue, the alluring color both a curse and a blessing with a heavy, life-long consequence behind them.

He grabs her by the back of her neck and pulls on her hair, the sound of her roots ripping makes me cry out when she groans in pain. The feeling from before is all-compassing now, I feel like I'm high but adrenalized all the same. My bones suddenly seem too big for my body and my skin too tight, the room too loud and my mind too alert.

Bloody Face takes out a baton with a taser attached to the end and begins beating Cora with it, the lashes slapping her back with sickening licks. Blood goes flying, ricocheting off the walls like a grotesque painting. She moans in anguish, her sobs filling the once dinky, quiet room and the sounds of her bones breaking pounding against my head. And all I can do is sit and watch.

"She's dying" I whisper to myself in despair. "What am I suppose to do? I can't save her."

My head feels foggy and my body drowsy. My neck rocks to the side and I feel in and out of consciousness as a wave of deja vu washes over me. I feel a probing in my head like being prodded with needles and then everything clears and I hear his voice.

"Scream, Lydia."

Stiles.

"You heard me, Lydia. Scream. If you're going to save her, it has to be now. She doesn't have much time."

How are you here right now?

The voice chuckles, "I'm not really here, I'm in your head. Nice to know you think about me, Lyds." His voice drops to a serious note, "You have to do this."

I just don't know what to do. I can't stop crying. I'm so weak.

"Well I think you look really beautiful when you cry."

Misty tears cloud my vision and I swallow a hiccup. For the first time in a while, they aren't ones of sadness, but nostalgia.

Cora lays sprawled on the floor, unarmed and unguarded. She's not even fighting back anymore, but he continues to hit her.

"Open the door, Lydia." Meredith's voice leaks into the forefront of my mind. "Open the door, or she dies."

"I don't know how…" I whimper, exasperated. "I'm not strong, I can't control this."

The disembodied voice sounds loud against my ears, "Yes you do, Lydia. OPEN THE DOOR!"

Cora's fallen silent and he's going in for the kill.

Allison's voice rings through my ears, "We protect those who cannot protect themselves."

The buzzing in my veins pulls me into a whirlwind of power and for once I feel anchored. The bite pulses against my side but now I feel stronger. Smoother. More in control. I face Bloody face just as he's about to deliver a kick to her ribs. I can feel it in my stomach, then my toes, working it's way up and out to my extremities. My whole being vibrates with dominance as courage rumbles deep within my soul and crawls up my throat. The bite burns, but its the good kind of burn. The one that reminds me that I can overcome this.

I'm Lydia fucking Martin.

My ear-splitting scream shatters the quiet that had only been filled by the sounds of abuse.

All hell breaks loose.

Bloody Face flies back against the wall that feels like a cage. The sickening crunch of his back hitting the ground is music to my ears. Blood seeps from all his pores, his mouth, ears, and eyes. For the moment, he's paralyzed in pain, unable to stop me from doing what comes next. Over the past few hours I'd been playing with the ivory clasp that had fallen from my hair a long time ago. Kneading it into the slit of the lock, I'd finally loosened the clasp. The locks snap open and the rough chained hand cuffs clatter to the ground. I look over at Bloody Face with morbid satisfaction. Moving toe to toe, I bend down to his height with a salacious quirk of my lips, "I'm not your Little Bird anymore."

I take the ivory clip in my hand and stab into his orbital socket, effectively gauging his right eye with the surreal realization that I liked the destruction that I could possess. Blood splatters my face but I barely notice it, the sick satisfaction I feel thrumming through me making me draw back for the moment. My hand shakes unsteadily, the clip still daggered in his eye. I look over at Cora and my anger returns. I tell myself that I'm doing this to survive, but I know it runs much deeper than that. This is about control, about my agency. The one that has constantly been stripped from me. So whatever this mean streak is, I'll stow it away to the back of my mind for later. No time to dwell on it, not with Cora bleeding out on the floor. Right now is my revenge, my justice. Cora's justice. I may be a pretty face, but this pretty face can shatter skulls.

He yells out in haggard screams and I try to suppress my glee at hearing him beg for me to stop. I lean down until my breath tickles his ear, "That's for all the girls whose innocence you've taken away. For the girls you've killed. For the girls who didn't get to live." I mutter with venomous fervor. I twist the clip in his eye and his screams escalate, "That one's for me."

My body feels full-charged like a battery that's been refueled. I race over to Cora and wrestle her up off the ground trying to steer clear of her injuries, but it is kind of inevitable. Her body is a bruise, purples and blues covering her from head to toe.

With one last thought, I get her to stand and lean against the wall as I walk back over to Bloody Face and grab the iron he branded us with and stick it down his pants. His muffled screams from his mask work to my advantage making it all the more enjoyable to see him suffer as we had. Another sick wave of power rushes through me and I revel at his screams. He deserves it.

I move back over to Cora and wrap her arm around my shoulder and I support her weight with my body, practically dragged her barely conscious self out of the cell. One of her eyes is sealed shut, black forming around the edges. The other eye is weak and twitching to stay open. Her solemn face hits me all at once, "I underestimated you, Lydia. You know- before." She coughs out, hacking up blood and spitting it on the floor as we maneuver blindly though the corridor. Her head leans against my shoulder and she sighs a little as a little pressure is relieved from the right side of her body. A small smile slips between my closed lips though I'm not even sure how I managed it given the situation. I run my fingers through her dirty hair, "I never gave you a chance. That's on me; that's was my mistake. Fortunately, I'm a little less bitchy now."

She snorts out a laugh but it comes out more as a groan.

I don't hear any footsteps behind us so Bloody Face must still be back at the cell. Even with the small sense of victory, I don't let my guard down. Not here, I can't afford to let that happen. And with all the I have learned, I try to take on an element of each of my friends; Kira's vixen stealth, Allison's level head, Stiles' unnerving skeptism, Malia's ferocity, Liam's optimism, and Scott's strength.

Further down the hall, there's a door with faint light coming out from beneath it. A feminine voice reaches my ears, but not the same one as before. No one has came out after us, the door must be sound-proofed from the inside. I listen in deeper from the small crack in the door, hoping somehow it will reveal a way out of here. The tail end of the conversation leaves me with more questions than answers.

"They really think they can win with the piss-poor Alpha on their side?" Mystery woman chuckles lightly, "They've got quite the storm coming." She purrs with laughter.

I let the words sink in but not long enough to lag behind and wait for her to find us.

A hatch above us materializes as I get close enough to see it. It was hidden well, but I'm desperate and determined.

Cora still hangs limply at my side and I pray that her heavy breathing doesn't give us away. I hoist her up the best I can and she slithers through the tiny hole, reaching out her hand to help pull me up. My hand hits grass.

The first rays of sunlight blind me, my first breath feeling like a gulp of ice water sliding down my scratchy throat as I bend over my knees and let out a sigh of relief.

I chuckle somberly at our appearances, both looking like prostitutes in the tatters of fabric that hang off of us and smudged makeup.

"We made it." I cry, my hands digging into my scalp as my fingers rake through my hair. I can't believe this is real. All of it. The sun, the trees, the dirt, the air I'm breathing. I don't feel so claustrophobic in my skin anymore, the tingling feeling in my side subsiding.

Cora seems to be doing a little better, her wounds starting to slowly stitch themselves back together, "We made it out of Hell. But it's still a long trek back to Earth."

I grab her hand and try with every ounce of my being to feel fierce and sure of myself as I did before. She looks down at my hand and then back up at my face as I speak, "We survived. Letting the reality of every thing set in will have to wait until we get back."

Her hand squeezes mine back with the dauntlessness that I've missed about her, "It's time to go home."

It's a long stretch of road ahead of us and the sepia sunset as our only guide. We have no idea where we are or if there's anywhere to even go. We could be hours away from civilization, there's no way to tell. All there are is Cora and I; two lost girls wrapped inside a chrysalis.

SCOTT POV:

The jingle of the door alerts everyone of my presence when I enter the shop. I had decided to come in last minute even though I already worked this morning. Being around Malia is starting to take a toll on me and I don't know how much longer I can hold out. The secretary Mary sits at her usual post; a piece of cinnamon gum in her mouth and sporting electric blue eye shadow.

"You look nice today, Mary."

She scoffs playfully and rolls her eyes, "Fuck off McCall, you're ten minutes late. Get your cute little ass together and suit up. You have a 6:00 appointment." She bends over so that it's just between us, "And if you really want my opinion, she seems like a hussy. I'd stay away, looks like trouble and not the good kind." She gossips, pointing to a busty red head with her nose buried in a magazine.

My eyes widen at the irony of it all, it's Fiona. She hasn't noticed me yet.

Mary smacks on her gum and snorts, "So when do me and the rest of the boys get to meet this elusive Malia you're always talking about?" She asks nosily, grinning from ear to ear at my faint blush. I think getting a rise out of me was her sole purpose for asking. Mary and I have an antagonistic relationship, we like to press each other's buttons. It's all in good fun, but now's hitting a little too close for comfort.

I shrug off her comment, "I don't always talk about her." I snark back, biting my lip at the realization that I kind of do. I don't mean to, I just get lost in stories about her. We're roommates and all, it's natural that she comes up in conversation often…. right?

Mary blows a bubble in her gum, "I hope this isn't weird but the anticipation is killing me so I looked her up on facebook. She's hot. If you're not gonna hit that, I will."

I almost choke on my spit.

"Malia's not into girls." I lie, the words confidently falling off my lips. I'm not sure why I said it, just the thought of Malia with anyone that's not me makes me kind of defensive. And I know I shouldn't be because I have no claim on her, not that she is something to ever be claimed. But I'm protective of her. I like her, if that isn't already obvious to everyone by now.

Mary huffs, glaring at me with heavy-lidded eyes, "Pity."

I change into my black wife-beater and ink-splattered pants. I store away my sketch pad and pencils in my locker in the back before going towards the front. With my sleeveless top, my arms are on full display, the different, multi-colored tattoos standing out all over my body. I have the intricate snake tattoo that starts at my shoulder and crawls up my neck, the double-arm bands on my left arm, a few tribal markings scattered around, a triskallion on my back, and a few other colorful artworks spaced out across my russet skin.

I feel in my element here. Nowhere makes me feel more at home that the shop. The smells of ink and sanitizer is refreshing and welcome every time I step through the door. I turn the corner to greet Fiona but it seems like she's in a heated phone conversation.

"I can't deal with this shit right now. We'll talk about it tomorrow." She whispers quietly, ending the call with a look of apprehension. She notices me standing there and shoots out of her seat with a coy smile and a raise of her brow when she takes in my physique.

I swear if she could purr, she would.

I meet her half way and she pulls me into a hug. I hold her in my arms and wait for her to pull away with a shy grin. I motion to her phone, "Is everything okay with you?"

She rolls her eyes and clicks of her tongue, "Yeah, just my psycho ex who can't seem to take a hint. It's a curse and a blessing falling for a black man. But I'd make an exception for you." She draws out with a wink.

I clear my throat awkwardly and she picks up on my discomfort, "I still plan on taking you for a ride one of these days, McCall." She winks, pulling me along to the front desk. She stares at Mary who refuses to acknowledge her presence but probably had been listening in on our conversation. Fiona coughs to get her attention but Mary can be petty which I've come to see as a very endearing quality. Finally Fiona huffs and rings the bell until she raises her head from the worn copy of Catcher of the Rye she's submersed in. If looks could kill, Fiona would be a pile of ashes on the ground at my feet.

"I want McCall here to be my artist." She speaks loudly to get her point across.

Mary smiles sharply, "Sorry could you speak up a little, I don't think the deaf people in the back could quite hear you." She snarks, jotting something down on a piece of paper and blowing another bubble. She eyes the two of us before she meets Fiona again, "You know you don't have a chance with him, right? Maybe for one night, but after that, you're dunzo. He's got a thing for this brunette chick. Super hot, seems like she's frisky. He talks about her all the time, it's kind of annoying. Vomit-inducing, actually." She leans in with an air of protectiveness, "So this whole sex appeal thing you have going on isn't really working in your favor, babe."

Fiona glares back with a hint of challenge, "Are you this polite to all your customers?"

Mary answers with a saccharin smile, "I can sniff out a brown-noser when I see one." She shrugs casually, turning fully to face me. "Proceed at your own risk."

I lead Fiona to my station by the small of her back, turning around to crack a grin at Mary who puts her hands around her neck mimicking the universal choking sign. I fight to hold in a chuckle, but a few slip out anyways.

She takes a seat on the recliner and shows me a picture of what she wants. It's a simple rose and a stem.

"Where do you want this done?"

She raises her shirt and it seems she's gone braless. Her tight pink nipples salute me as the cold air of the shop hits them directly. She brazenly takes my hand and runs my thumb over the underside of her breast, "Right here." She coos, biting her lip in heat with bedroom eyes as she plays with my fingers and runs it over her nipple.

My breath hitches and my hungry eyes devour her. I've had a lot of stress and horniness built up for a while now with the growing tension between Malia and I. I try to fight it off most of the time with cold showers and trying to let my thoughts or eyes linger on her for too long, but it's kind of hopeless at this point.

It's been a long time since I've had sex, and I'm itching for a fix.

I roll her taunt nipple between my rough fingers and squeeze them testingly. She moans at the contact and thrusts her tit further into my hand as I massage her. My lips go to her throat and my other hand snakes down her toned stomach and to the waist band of her shorts. With her permission, my fingers thumb at the seam until I'm in her panties, my fingers already coated with her wetness that's pooled between her thighs as I play with her pussy lips. By her breathy moans and persistent tugging at my hair, I must be doing a good job. I rip her shorts in half and her panties in one fell swoop.

"God yes, Scott. Play with my pussy. Fuck yes." She sighs, squirming underneath my mensuration. I latch onto one of her tits that hang in front of my face. Catching it in my mouth, I lick her while twirling my tongue around the areola like tying a cherry stem. She pulls on my hair tighter, but her constant mewling is kind of a mood killer. My eyes are closed as I'm lost in the moment and guiltily enough, wishing it was Malia who I was with like this. Wishing it was her hands in my hair and her body I'm exploring. But she's not her. And that's just going to have to do for now.

"Do you like that?" I groan sexily, my heavy brown eyes falling on her as hers roll into the back of her head.

Her legs shake around my waist struggling to keep herself up, "I want to ride your face, Scott." She all but demands, her blue eyes almost begging.

"We really shouldn't be doing this." I mutter, anxiously looking around the shop to see if anyone has heard us. The last thing I need is to get caught fucking on the job. I'm going to have to sanitize my whole station when I'm done.

She grabs me by my chin and pulls me into a heated kiss but it feels all wrong. She pulls away when I don't respond to the kiss, "You're not giving up on me yet, are you McCall? I'm not quitter and I hate not finishing."

My fatal flaw rears it's ugly head as cockiness fills me up. I take myself out from my boxers and line myself up with her, not even giving her a moment to catch her breath. In one stroke, I'm deep inside her, filling her up to the hilt and her eyes swim with euphoria. "Oh fuck." She moans quietly, her mouth open in a silent scream. "God you're so thick." She mumbles and the comment fills me with pride.

I pump into her hard and fast, nothing sweet or slow about it. She seems to like the slapping of our skin against each others and she spurs me on by raking her nails down my chest, "Keep this up and I might even hit you up again for another booty call." She says in a musical voice, groaning when I go deeper and hit her G-spot.

"Holy-" She shudders, "I'm-I'm gonna cum…" She sighs, letting go and I let her. Her body falls limp against my chest and I continue to slam into her until I reach the peak of my climax just as I'm about to fall apart. I pull out and cum on a napkin on the desk, letting out raspy groans as the pleasurable pulsations shoot all across my body.

We're both panting until we've calmed down and she smirks at me, "You've got a lot of skill for a freshman." She praises, her eyes roaming over me like she's waiting for a round two.

I chuckle at her enthusiasm and sit back in my chair, "Now about that tattoo…"

MALIA POV:

Everyone meets back at Stiles' room a couple hours after Scott came home from work. He reeked of sex and regret, something everyone seems to try to ignore, but not me. I'm not letting him off that easy. But there's more important things at stake right now like Lydia's safety. I'm not going to let Scott's random sexscapade make me lose my temper. At least for now while we're in front of the others.

He walks by me and tries to touch me but I back away, "I don't know where those fingers have been. Or whom they've been in." I mutter haughtily, trying to get as far away from him as possible. He left me wet and bothered with a weak ass apology that couldn't even look me in the eye for and then has the audacity to show up here smelling like like. Like another girl. Not that I'm mad. He's not mine to be mad about. It's just rude, you know? I'm definitely not jealous.

Okay fine, I'm so jealous. But hurt mostly outweighs the jealousy.

"Malia-"

I cut him off with a glare and hold my hand up to stop him, "We are so not having this conversation right now. All of our shit is getting put on the back burner until later. You don't get my attention right now." I whisper heatedly so that's it's just between us although I'm pretty sure everyone has heard us anyways. There's really no secrets here with as big of a pack that Scott has. There's always going to be someone peering over your shoulder or unwillingly listening in on your conversations.

His solemn expression almost breaks me but I stand my ground. Moving to the opposite side of the room, I loop my arm through Theo's and squeeze in between him and Liam. I smirk Liam's way, "Sorry pup." I chuckle when his eyes go wide. He puts his hands up in defense which makes me laugh even more, so I pull him into my side with my other arm where he stands with a small smile.

Allison, Isaac, and Stiles try to detain their chuckles but it's futile. Scott pouts in the corner feeling sorry for himself and Kira looks at her nails disinterested.

After we all settle down, Stiles begins conducting business.

His flannel falls in a loose disarray around his shoulders, but like the rest of him. He doesn't look like he's eaten much, let alone showered. His brown eyes shift across his board in a calculated frenzy as he bites the eraser of his pencil. If you look close enough you can see the slight tick in his jaw and the microscopic quiver of his left hand.

Kira seems to pick up on his distress and whispers something in his ear before intercepting the shaking of his hands by taking it between her palms. Using her pinky finger, she zaps him with a tiny electric bolt and he jumps off the floor.

"What the hell, Kira?" He groans, waving his hand around while flexing and extending the fingers test out their motion. Physiologically he's fine, just a little spooked.

She smirks, "You need to get your head in the game and you can't do that when you're fidgeting around like you just took a bar of xanax. Take a minute if you need to; calm down, grasp your bearing, and pull yourself together Stilinski because every second we waste is a second Lydia could be dead."

Allison steps up to his defense, "You don't have to be so harsh about it, Kira. We're all hurting and we all miss her, not just you. She's my friend, too."

Kira peers over at her and then dramatically shifts her eyes over to me, "I think you've found a new one." She remarks sharply with a bit of bite and Allison is taken back. As am I.

What's been going on with her lately? I know we haven't really talked in a while and that blame falls more on my part than anything, but that doesn't give Kira the right to come at people like that.

"Kira what is all of this about?" I ask, almost reluctant to hear what she has to say. A fight right now of all times is the last thing we need.

Kira stares me down hard, "I just think you've had your priorities all out of whack." She whispers but the words feel heavy like lead against my ears. Theo pulls me a little closer, whether for comfort or to detain me before I do or say something I'll regret, I'm not sure.

"Would you like to elaborate or are we just going to talk in riddles?" I sigh tiredly. I don't need this. Not right now. Not after everything with Scott. And definitely not with Lydia missing. Their pack is hurting and they don't deserve to have to witness our problems on top of that. Problems that I didn't really know had come to a head. I guess I've been a little less observant lately.

She stifles an eye roll and crosses her arms over her chest, "If you really don't know what I'm talking about than that speaks for itself." She deadpans, moving her eyes to Scott and back to me. Her eyes shift to everyone in the circle of people and than back to me. "I feel like I don't even know who you are anymore, Malia."

I choke on my surprise, her confession feeling like a slap to the face. My eyes bleed into hers, "I'm trying, okay? You know how things have been lately with everything happening all at once. Lets just get Lydia and we can deal with whatever this is later." I try to convince her, motioning between the two of us.

She shakes her head and her voice comes out clipped, "Same old Malia, always trying to take the easy way out. Trying to avoid the problem until it goes away. I don't know why I expected anything different." Her voice strains on the next words, "You've had your head up Scott's ass since you met him. As much as you want to say that you only stayed with him because of the supernatural element of your relationship, we all know that's bullshit but no one else is going to call you out on that so it looks like I'm going to have to be the bad guy as usual. You chose to stay with him. I mean, just say you're fucking and go." She says, her lips falling in a thin line. "The Malia I knew wouldn't let a guy mess her up this bad. You're following him and everyone around like you're a member of this pack. Forgiving things you wouldn't usually forgive. Milking the whole tough girl act like you don't need anyone." She adds, her eyes turning glassy.

Now I know what this is about. The comment I made the night Emery was killed. The rest of this is just background noise, but the root of the problem lies there.

"I shouldn't of said what I said." I begin, fighting to reign in my frustration, "But if it bothered you so much you should of said something instead of letting it fester into this." I say, referring to the space between us. Don't bring Scott into this, this isn't about him. It's about you and I." I pause to compose myself, "Forgiveness isn't a crime, you know. You can't hold all that anger bottled in you, Kira. It's going to slowly eat away at you and I'm trying to be better."

She scoffs, "You're not that evolved, Malia. Just admit it, you love this new pack so much and you want to join them. I bet Scott hasn't asked but I'm sure if he did you'd say yes." She surmises with a cold glare, "And where does that leave Theo and I?"

Everyone is silent as the room airs out from the particular iciness of the situation.

Scott chooses this moment to intervene, "I'm not trying to take Malia away from you two, none of us are. We all kind of just fell into these friendships. None of us really know what we're doing." He starts calmly, "But I'll fall back a little if that's what it takes to fix this."

I growl at him, "Don't speak for me, Scott. That's not a solution. I may be irritated with you at the moment, but that doesn't mean I don't want to be around you." I get out in one breath turning back to Kira, "I don't know where this is all stemming from but let me know when you figure it out. Time's ticking and Lydia needs us more than the attention this argument is getting." I look into the eyes of my best friend with a sense of hope, "We'll fix this. We will." I get out with thickness clogging up my throat.

Ignoring everyone's stares I move over to Stiles, "What's the plan?"

Stiles gives me a grateful look and turns to his detective board, "Ally met up with Danny. He was able to track Lydia's phone to this deserted highway down the back roads. It seems like the reception he picked up is about an hour out. I called all the surrounding police stations with my dad's help and they said they'd let him know if they saw anything suspicious."

Kira interrupts, "We're going to track down that location and follow her scent to wherever it leads. She's been gone a little more than 24 hours but her scent should still be there. If the killers were smart, they would of driven in a bunch of directions to throw us off. If that's the case, we'll split up and follow each trail. The police officer Stiles called checked out the area and noticed some skid marks farther out in the ghost town you go through to get to the location her phone was detected. He said not many people come through that area, it's very rare because most people don't know the back way. Stiles and I think that may be a lead."

I listen with open ears, taking a minute to digest everything they'd said. I nod and look around the room, "Than lets split up into cars and get going. There isn't much light left and we don't need to lose anyone else right underneath out noses. Besides, the sound of this town kind of gives me the creeps."

Theo snorts and jiggles his jeys, "Liam's with me."

The room erupts in chuckles. Liam's ears are tinged pink from embarrassment.

"Malia, you and me." Scott addresses me, giving me a choice, but in the end I knew it wasn't really a choice. We needed to talk, that much was obvious. I just don't know if I'm up for it right now. I need to be focused.

I take a hold of Allison, "She's coming with us."

"Lia, please." He urges, his soft brown eyes conveying so many different emotions. My heart spikes at his silent question.

I sigh, "Am I going to regret this?"

A dimpled grin peeks over his lips, "Probably."

A treacherous smile tickles at my cheeks. Scott just has that affect on me. I could be mad at him and then a few minutes later he has me grinning like a loon. But that doesn't erase our problems, I have jealousy issues and he's a control freak. We're a match made in Hell.

Theo makes his way over with Liam in tow. "You guys can ride with us, it's best if we take as little amount of cars as possible so nothing seems suspicious if any of the people who took Lydia are patrolling the area."

Allison nudges me, "I think I'm going to ride with Isaac. I'm going to give him road head." She beams brightly, her dimples flashing cutely with mischief.

I bust out laughing when Isaac's eyes bulge out and his face breaks into a huge grin. I guess she forgot that he's a werewolf and can hear everything she's saying.

Isaac smirks from across the room as a mortified Allison slaps her forehead at her mistake. "What did you say, Ally?" He chuckles endearing, his fondness for the hunter evident in his ocean blue eyes.

"She said she's going to give you road head!" I shout across the room and Allison glares at me and pinches my nipple.

"Damn bitch." I groan from the pain but also slight pleasure, "If you want to get freaky like that, all you had to do was ask. I got my nipple clamps back in my room."

Scott and Stiles' jaws drop to the floor.

Stiles pops his head in between us, "Can I watch?"

I roll my eyes and slap him upside the head.

He grunts out a rebuttal, "A simple no would of sufficed, Werecoyote."

Scott throws his arm around my shoulder, "Those are only for me." He murmurs huskily.

"Says who?" I insert sassily.

He smirks, running his hand down the length of my back and smacking my ass, "Says me." He whispers hotly in my ear with a heavy look, the back of his fingers grazing my forearm.

"You play dirty, McCall." I bite back a moan. They last thing I need is eye sex with Scott in front of everyone. Or real sex. Actually that sounds good as fuck. Damn, I'm so thirsty. I really need some dick. I've been deprived long enough.

He chuckles sexily, "It's the only way I know how."

We split off and make our way to the parking lot; Theo, Liam, Scott, and I in one car and Allison, Stiles, Isaac, and Kira in the other. Scott opens the door for me and I bite back a grin. Scott's always been kind and well-mannered, but I know he's really trying to show me that he cares, maybe more than he wants to. I get where he's coming from, but I don't have the pride to wait for him. My inner-feminist dies at the thought of feeling so emotionally weak around him. But it is what it is and I can't help what I feel. I have no doubt that he wants me just as much as I want him. But in what capacity, I'm still stumped.

Liam and Theo banter in the front seat, Liam playfully punching Theo's arm and Theo jabbing back at him. I chuckle at their antics and scream over the music, "Why don't you guys just make out?" I improvise and they stop to look at me. Theo wears a shit-eating grin and Liam looks nervous.

I smooth it over to make him feel better, "There's nothing wrong with kissing boys, Liam. Trust me, men have their downfalls but kissing isn't one of them." I smirk, shifting my eyes to Theo, "Besides, Theo's not bad at it."

Scott's eyes clip over to mine, "And how the hell do you know that?"

I shrug, "We made out once when we were both drunk."

Scott's dark brown eye penetrate my skull but I don't give him the validation he wants. I sit back in my seat and stare out the window, the stormy greys and pinks of the sky swimming together like a watercolor painting.

Scott's hand inches towards mine until our pinkies touch but he doesn't make a move to take it. I look over to meet his eyes and then shift them down to our hands. There's nothing more intimate than the connection made by the almost-touch. His gaze shows uncertainty and hope, two things that should be rectified. I glide my hand over the top of his and intertwine our fingers, the warmth of his skin bleeding into mine. A small smile grows from the corner of his mouth but he doesn't say anything. Theo and Liam peek at us through the rear view mirror with subtle smiles as they break eye contact with me and grin at each other.

I snort at their level of discreetness or lack there of and lean my head against Scott's shoulder. The vibrations of his heart against my cheek give me comfort and I snuggle further into him. His hand graze my side and squeezes my hip, running small circles there with his thumb.

I'm so scared. Not just of this moment and how easy and simple it is, but how every moment with him makes me feel. With him, it's all so effortless. We may argue too much and be problematic in our own way, but I'm telling myself now that it will be worth it because he's the closest thing to home I've ever felt.

He kisses the crown of my head and pulls me closer. His lips fall a centimeter from my ear, "I'm sorry about earlier."

"I know."

CORA POV:

Lydia tugs me along for a while until I regain my strength. I have to admit, the strawberry blonde took me by surprise. For a long time, all I saw her as was a girl who was the smartest one in the room and knew it. That's partly why she used to irritate me so much. I saw the way Stiles used to look at her sometimes and I never really understood it, never really saw what was so remarkable about the girl besides her pretty face. But now I see it, Lydia wouldn't run and hide. She could of left me there but she didn't. That's something I don't take lightly.

We've been walking for a while now and the sharp California sun is starting to weigh on her, I can tell.

We stop for the moment under the first tree we've seen in miles. We'd found a box of abandoned clothes on the side of the road a few miles back. They were a bit grimy and itchy, but it did it's job of covering us up a bit. We sit for minutes but inevitably get up to keeping moving. They others probably know that we've escaped and could be on out tail. Further ahead, I see what looks like a holographic glitch in the air. Something seems so fabricated about it, catching the glint from the sun as it shines upon it from the angle I'm standing. It's a force field.

I stop, "Lydia wait. There's some kind of invisible wall ahead of us. You probably can't see it but I can see the edges of it. Let me go first, I'll heal. You won't."

Her nails bite into my arm, "Whatever we do, we do together. All or nothing."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah."

We move closer. The closer we get, the more the pulsations of the force field stands out. We stand stark still when the chilling realization of what we see staring back at us. It's us. The force acts as a double-edged mirror, but the us that peers back makes me do a double take.

Lydia looks back at herself, but she looks slightly different on the other side. Harder. Bolder. More weary. The lines underneath her eyes and the hollowness of her cheek show that life hasn't been easy for her. She's seen things, done things, experienced things that may not be a far cry from what Lydia and I have just gone through. Her hair is a slightly darker red, more of a ripe plum color. Her eyebrows are darker, more defined. Her eyes a lighter shade of green.

My reflection makes my skin crawl. Before me is the same girl with an olive complexion, deep-set brown eyes, and the same splatter of freckles. She seems lighter, happier even. I don't know what that means, but I wish I did.

Lydia reaches out to touch it but my hand comes up to stop her, my strong grip squeezing her wrist before her fingers can touch it. She looks at me in contemplation and her other hand grabs mine, "Anywhere is better than here." Is all she says, looking behind us to an empty landscape that could be infiltrated with Bloody Face any second now.

"What if we get into something bad that we can't get our way out of?"

"The pack will find us. I trust them. Now trust me."

I sigh and nod, the two of us reaching forward into the force field. When we touch it, it pulsates against our hands. There's a moment of unsettling stillness. Like quicksilver, a bright portal opens up and we're sucked inside. White, flashing lights glare against my eyes and I squeeze them shut to shield them. I still feel Lydia's hand in mine. At least I hadn't lost her in the momentum of the suction.

We come falling out of a black hole type orb in the sky and fall flat on our asses just outside a sign that reads Welcome to Martinville: James Brian College in 4 miles.

"Where the fuck are we?" I gasp, looking around at the surrounding area with distrust.

Lydia mimics my expression, "We're fucked."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: OK guys so updates will be sporadic because of my hectic school schedule. Trying real hard for you guys so please leave reviews to pass the time in between updates! TheFlashFics94 and I are doing a cross over chapter or two with our fics so be aware! You may have to read a bit of hers to understand what's going on but this is the beginning of it. Lydia and Cora are now in her story's universe! Her fics connected to this are Whenever You're Ready and Till Forever Runs Out. Enjoy the ride! ALSO I am still stuck between these pairings going forward, (Kydia/Stydia/Stora/Cira) So I'd like some opinions going further as the relationships develop. If you don't tell me what you like you can't be upset if I don't go with the pairing you prefer. I'll take that into consideration and where I want the story to go and evolve. Thanks in advance!


	11. Mind Warp

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Oblivion" Bastille and "Soldier On" Temper Trap and "We Move Lightly" Dustin O'Halloran

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE VERY IMPORTANT PLEASE READ: So if you read the author's note at the end of my last chapter than you know that ScaliaFics94 (formally known as TheFlashFics94) and I are doing a couple of cross over chapters between her story and mine. My last chapter ended with Lydia and Cora going through a portal into her story's universe. If you don't read her last two chapters you won't understand what's going on in this chapter. So please go read her last two chapters before you read this one. It would honestly be easier if you started with her first fic, Whenever You're Ready. But if you're lazy and don't wanna do that, the last two chapters of her second fic Til Forever Runs Out is the way to go. This may be an inconvenience, but her story is on fanfiction.net. I really hope you guys enjoy this chapter. I worked very very hard on it and I'm really excited to see the feedback. Also, at some point in the story I will be referring to our separate characters are E-1 and E-2, short for Earth 1 and Earth 2, similar to how they do it in The Flash. Keep in mind that SCALIAFICS94'S characters are Earth 1 (E-1) and mine are Earth 2 (E-2). It shouldn't be too hard to follow but let me know what you guys think. Thanks!

MY LYDIA POV:

I'd say things went smoothly, but then again when do they ever.

The grittiness of the dirt road bites into my skin when I land hard on my knees when being catapulted out of the portal. Tiny rocks sink into the fragile flesh, oozing crimson blood as it slides down my legs like bloody tear drops. The sting is like the buzzing of a fly, not too distracting but noticeable nonetheless. A smooth hand decorated in rings reaches out in front of me. I look up to see a smiling Kira beaming down at me, the back drops of the sun shining in her hair making it appear painted in strokes of reds and yellows. My mind conjures up purple hair and loose curls, the girl in front of me resembling my Kira until the fogginess clears and she comes back into clear focus.

My Kira. That's a new development.

I hadn't been lying when I had said in my world Kira is lonely. Sometimes I'll look at her and wonder when she'll tell me what's made her the way she is. Her ebony eyes are always downcast; dark shutters blocking the windows to the person beyond them. The mystery was what drew me to her, but it's also what's holding me back. This Kira is different; a shade of the girl I know, cut from the same cloth. The same cool indifference and poignant sarcasm.

I smile at her warmly and take her hand as she helps me to my feet. I peer over her shoulder and catch a glimpse of Cora. She looks upon other-Stiles, her expression unreadable, but her eyes seem to soften in the presence of his unruly dark hair and honey eyes. Feeling my eyes on her, her gaze flickers over to mine briefly. Her lips pull down in a frown and she drops my eyes, also averting her jaded gaze from the boy who eerily resembles our own. Someone who has also been heavy on my mind.

Other-Scott hangs off to the side, his crooked jaw pulled down in a grimace. His soft brown eyes seem lost in thought, like there's somewhere else he'd rather be right now, or with someone else whom he'd rather be. My heart hurts for him, the headstrong Alpha seemingly being weighed down by his demons. I can see from his deflated stance how much he misses her, Malia. I can see it in the way his shoulders sag and can't stop wringing his hands. Makes me wonder what it must feel like to love someone so completely, so desperately that it physically hurts not to be with them. Maybe one day I'll know. Maybe my Scott and Malia will figure it out too, with each other.

Liam dusts himself off glaring at the boy in between his legs, somehow Theo had landed in his lap. The burly latter of the two smirks at him as his low-lidded gray eyes rake over him, "I knew you were a bottom."

Stiles loses his composure, bent over his knees howling with laughter and Allison politely tries to rein in her silvery chuckle. Kira grins cheekily disengaging from other-Lydia's arm, (and yeah, saying that isn't any less weird now than it was before), and prances over to the dynamic duo.

She runs her thumb over her chin, "So if Liam is the twinky of the two of you, does that make you the cream-filling inside?" She ponders with a salacious upturn of her lips as she speaks to Theo.

A deep-seeded chuckle rumbles in Theo's chest, "Yeah I fill him up with my cream on a daily basis." His smirk deepens and Liam just shrugs in defeat clearly not all that embarrassed, "Then I let him eat my twinky." He winks, cool and collected.

Liam shoves him off and stands to his feet, "We're just friends and I use that term loosely."

Theo shrugs, "He is, I'm not."

Kira snickers and narrows her eyes, "Trouble in paradise?"

Theo seems to stand a little straighter at her comment and Liam sinks further from him. He answers back easily, "Nothing that matters."

Theo's eyes seem to darken at that, the implied jab not going unnoticed by the rest of us. Liam stalks off in the opposite direction to where Scott stands and Theo looks on after him, emotion bleeding from every pore of his body.

Cora rolls her eyes and intervenes, "Do you two need a minute alone to work out your shit or can we figure out where the hell we are?" She says baldly in her usual clipped tone. With the influx of energy lost, she seems to sway a bit, her eyes fluttering closed and back open. Her sweaty palms sweep across her forehead before the dizziness gets worse.

Stiles seems to pick up on her state and rushes to catch her just as she falls. Allison gasps worriedly and runs over, manifesting a water bottle from her small satchel. She unscrews the top and brings it to her chapped lips. Cora gulps the whole thing, squeezing every last drop from the plastic bottle until it gives away underneath her hands. She throws Allison a grateful look, "Thanks. I guess you got over your aversion to werewolves then?"

Allison crunches her nose in confusion, "What are you talking about? I've known Scott was a werewolf from the very beginning. I've never hated your species."

She seems to remember that the time lines aren't exactly the same, recognition flashing in her eyes, "Oh yeah, I forgot you're not the hunter in your world." Her dewy brown eyes flash over to Stiles and the tension in her jaw seems to melt away slightly as a ghost of a smile slants across her lips, "I can't picture you as a hunter. The you I remember was more breakable. Clumsy and uncoordinated was always kind of his thing." She half-smiles with a shy dimple, most likely remembering her time with Stiles during her short stay in Beacon Hills.

Other-Stiles seems jostled at that but returns her smile nonetheless, "It sounds like other me isn't getting any very often." He murmurs jokingly and shrugs it off.

My eyes bore into the side of his head and he must feel my gaze because he meets my stare in question. Allison's eyes travel with him and her brows furrow as she looks between him and I and then her Lydia and him who seems to look on the exchange. Allison's mouth parts and then falls in a soft line, her smoky brown eyes dropping to the ground. I instantly feel my heart drop with her. Because no matter what reality we are in, this is Allison my best friend. And I am hurting her.

Other-me seems to catch on to the tension between us and hides behind her hair before her eyes flicker over to Stiles and then falling heavily on Ally. She chews on her satin red lips and plays with the ring on her finger, twisting and turning it to take the attention away from herself.

This is just one big cluster-fuck.

Headlights part the sea of fading day light, the familiar blue jeep coming down the road followed by two other cars.

"Well this is about to get interesting."

OTHER-SCOTT POV:

The sun-drenched landscape has fallen into a hollowed darkness without anyone noticing.

A slip of a girl peeks out from underneath the dingy road lights that hang above us on the parallel roads. A head of burnished gold hair with undertones of brown catches my attention. A vanilla scent fills my nose. Chocolate brown eyes meet my gaze.

I think I've seen a ghost. It's her. But it's not her.

This Malia holds my gaze, hers widening ever so slightly when she takes me in with her own Scott standing at her side. Something about them riles me up, makes my heart stutter before continuing to thrum. Seeing them together gives me hope that even if they are not together, they are still within the same frequency, operating on the same wavelength. Flashes of my previous life echo through my mind like an old film, the images frayed and splayed in faded neutrals. I feel a pressure in my nose before I can taste the metallic in my mouth. I wipe the spot above my lip and capture the trail of blood that leaks from my nostril. More images transition aggressively across my eyes, the distilled memories coexisting with the scene in front of me, almost like they are overlapping. They burn at the edges of my mind, making a home there where they will never leave.

A sharpness digs into the side of my head like an ice pick, cementing them there. I don't know what any of this means or if time will tell.

She takes curious steps towards me, her chin jutted out fiercely and her mouth falling in the same relaxed position that my Malia does when she's wary. Her heart-shaped face is the same. Her nose. Her willowy frame. Her olive complexion. The only differences are her hair that's a little bit longer and shades brighter, but the bigger one being her eyes, those of her own a few shades lighter than the bottomless brown of Malia back home.

I hope I'm not scaring her, but I can't keep the relief off my face. Seeing her here, even if only a version of her someplace, anyplace, anywhere safe, makes me feel like everything is going to be okay. In any life, she's the hairline crack in my ship, able to sink me in a second. And from what I've witnessed, we always find each other.

Her eyes escape me when she turns to Cora who still rests in Stiles' arms.

Her voice falters and wetness pools in her eyelashes, "… Cora." She whispers hauntingly, morbid flares rooted in them as she races over to the girl on the ground. "Cora, what the hell happened to you. What is-" She shuffles and looks around at the dopplegangers of her friends that surrounds the place, "Am I in the twilight zone? This freaky shit is not the type that I'm into." She deadpans, her eyes finding her Scott across the road. But as soon as she does, her body stiffens and her gaze hardens before she finds her Lydia in the crowd of people.

Her-Lydia stands stalk still, peering over the heads of people as if looking for someone she can't find. Her eyes meet a walking-copy of Kira and she rushes over and hugs her, falling into her arms like it's the greatest relief in the world. She strokes the other girl's magenta hair with her nose grazing her ear as she whispers that she's okay to the Japanese beauty that looks like she's about to break with a dam of tears spilling out.

My Lydia and Kira look on them strangely but with a bit of nostalgia paired with soft smiles. Kira loops her arm around Lydia, "She's right, the purple looks awesome on me. It's very femme, I think I can dig it."

Lydia laughs at that, "The hair is an upgrade, for sure. But I don't think you're capable of being that soft. You're like brimstone, impenetrable. I don't think I've seen you clutch onto me or anyone else like that before."

Kira simpers at that, "I'll work on that." She snarks, "We can give this lesbian lovers thing a go Lydia, just say the word. I've always wondered if the curtains match the drapes underneath." She wiggles her eyebrows playfully with a half-hearted smile.

Lydia just slaps her arm lightly with a giggle, "Eat shit, Kitsune."

Kira jumps at the chance to retort, "I prefer eating pussy. Apparently in all aspects of my life."

Liam giggles at that.

Kira whispers in Lydia's hear, "Once a twink, always a twink."

Other-Stiles looks over at other Lydia and Kira still embracing with a look of self-pity, his forlorn gaze relaxing on the two until the sadness bleeds into acceptance. His and Lydia's eyes meet over Kira's shoulder and she mouths something to him but he brushes it off when he looks away.

Other-Scott steps into the middle of the group, the same air of authority falling off of him with ease and poise that feels like looking into a distorted mirror at a circus. He looks me dead in the eye with awe and borderline caution, "Would someone like to explain this?"

Their Lydia steps forward away from Kira, "I can. It's a long story and I only know bits and pieces. I was taken to an underground tunnel and locked up there." Her eyes seem to dull at that, her bottom lip held hostage between her teeth as she looks down at the ground and musters up the courage to continue, "I found Cora there. We got into a sticky situation and I got us out of it. We escaped through a hidden hatch and stumbled upon a breach." Her eyes meet Cora's, "We went through and ended up in another world."

Everyone listens on. Their Stiles, while seemingly still not in the right frame of mind to be comforting her moves over to pull the redhead into his arms in a one-armed hug. Lydia flinches away, her eyes squeezed shut as her breath quickens. She hollows into Kira and peers over at Stiles with red-rimmed eyes accumulating with tears, "I'm- I'm sorry. It's not you. I- just- I can't be touched right now. Not by-" Her eyes scan the circle and make eye contact with all of the men in the group.

Everyone seems to catch on to what's happening and their Allison lets out a sob, running over to the petite girl and ambushing her with the only thing she would give, comfort. Isaac pats her on the back but keeps his distance. Weirdly enough, he seems to be a part of their pack. And with… Allison?

Their Stiles mouth falls open before closes when his honey eyes simmer with anger. Not at Lydia, but at what everyone by now should know must of occurred. I don't know how he's seeing straight right now. If it were the woman I love it would be impossible to rein me in. I'd hunt down the piece of shit that dared to lay a finger on her until I had their blood staining my teeth and painting my face in red.

Cora disappears into herself, trying to make herself as small as possible. I have a feeling Stiles would of offered her comfort as well if he weren't afraid she would recoil as well. He looks her over and his frown deepens, his mouth open to say something until he presumably thinks better of it and closes it.

Out of the corner of my eye I see a blur in the distance. A figure of a man. Or, actually… a werewolf.

The beast charges at us, the stench of fear firing off of him in signal flares. Allison readies her bow that her dad had taught her to use but she fumbles with the quiver, too slow to find her mark. Stiles materializes in front of her, Chinese daggers and knives hanging from his belt.

With a flip in the air, the werewolf takes a round kick to the chest and falls to the ground, spraying dust in the air like a sandstorm. The blade in Stiles' left hand comes down hard and pierces the wolf's shoulder as his other arm skillfully maneuvers the dagger at the tip of his throat. He digs it farther until he's cutting off oxygen. "That's my girl you almost attacked." He murmurs eerily calm. His honey eyes seem to bleed an almost inky black in this state. His fists are clenched to a point that his hands are pale white, his temper being the one thing that's always been his weak spot.

Allison pulls him off of the werewolf and takes him into her arms, "I'm okay, Stiles. I'm okay." She reassures, swiping her thumbs underneath his eyes until the light returns to them.

She lets out a sigh when he brings his forehead down to hers, "I've almost lost you once, I wasn't about to test my luck." He mutters in a hoarse voice full of desperation.

Other-Stiles looks on the exchange thoroughly perplexed, "Intense."

The werewolf in question chokes on black blood that comes pouring from his mouth. His eyes stare wide open with his mouth in a similar fashion. With ragged breaths he mutters, "They're going to kill us all."

Other-Lydia's mouth parts and her eyes harden in a knowing look.

The werewolf takes it's final breaths and his eyes close.

Stiles picks up the dead weight, "I'll go bury him."

Allison grabs his arm, "I'm coming with you."

He hesitates for a second and then nods, the two of them disappearing down the road.

Malia steps forward, her stride even the same as my Malia. I can see she's fighting her instincts to go console Cora, but she really seems to want some answers. Her head tilts to the side when she looks at me hard, her face giving nothing away. I let out a puff of air, rolling out my tired shoulders and run my fingers through my tousled curls. Her eyes follow my hands and she chews at the inside of her cheek for a beat until she makes another move forward before her Scott reaches out to halt her. She sends him an icy glare and shrugs off his hand. I have to smirk at that, still fiery, still so Malia.

Her gaze cuts to mine and she speaks, "So this is legit, you guys are really from a different world?" She starts confidently but there's a sense of meekness that lays underneath the surface. Her voice is guarded, unsure. She whispers to herself, "I guess I'm not crazy after all."

Her Scott meets her steps and lays his hands on her shoulders as he faces her with concern evident in his eyes, the same old look I've displayed myself a million times. I can tell that these two aren't there yet, haven't realized what they really mean to each other. But I have every confidence that they will, they have to. I have to believe that it's just how it's meant to be. Because if I let myself dwell on the possible what ifs I think I'll drive myself insane.

"Is there anywhere else we can go to discuss this more privately. If Cora and Lydia just escaped, it's probably not a good idea to be so out in the open. Last thing anyone needs is another one of your pack members being taken." I state logically, looking around the group.

The Kira of their group pulls a tired Lydia against her shoulder, "I have a place we can go."

MY KIRA POV:

I race over to the car and pull out a battered, floral quilt and carry it in my arms back over to the group, it belongs to Lydia. Her grandmother had made it for her and it's the last little memento she has of her. We were having one of our wine nights where Lydia would read to me with my head in her lap and her fingers lazily running through my hair. Eventually pillow talk ensued when she got a little tipsy and let it slip how her grandmother had been locked in Eichen House. Apparently her mother and father had hidden away all the photos of her from around the house, almost as though they were ashamed to admit that they were scared. Lydia hadn't known it at the time, but one day she wondered if it was because they were terrified she would end up just like her grandmother.

I noticed that she slept with it every night and almost had a panic attack when she'd realized she'd left it back at her and Allison's room when she'd spent the night at my apartment.

"I'll go all the way back to your dorm with you to get it if it will make you feel better. Come on Lyds, I know you want to."

Her voice shakes, "No, it's okay. It's 3 o'clock in the morning. Allison's probably asleep and I'm twenty years old. I don't need a blanket to help me sleep-"

I grab her by the chin and pull her down for a kiss before pulling back and resting my forehead against hers, "You don't have to hide from me, Lydia. I like your neurotic tendencies." I chuckle and she giggled as well, brushing her pale fingers down my temple and the side of my face.

She captured my jaw in the palm of her hand and climbed into my lap before her pink mouth slanted over mine again, "You're pretty good at hiding." She says offhandedly, her face so close to mine that her fluttering eyelashes intermingled with my dark ones. Her jade green eyes hold a ring of yellow around the outer corners, two mesmerizing orbs that resemble planets in the milky way. The faint glow of the room illuminates them in an ethereal quality, the dark green almost a gentle sea-foam.

I rubbed my nose against hers and cup her cheek, "Some things are better left hidden."

Before she could respond I took her hand whisked her off the bed and spun her around the room, "Now lets go get your blanket."

Lydia's eyes widen when she sees the tattered wool in my arms. Tears glisten in her eyes and she stares back at me in awe, "You remembered."

Reaching on my tiptoes, I wipe away her falling tears with shaking thumbs, "I remember everything you tell me. It's easy to listen to you talk, your voice is really soothing." I blush embarrassed, "I like when you read to me, more for the benefit of just listening to you speak. I could listen to you talk for hours."

A trail of silvery moonlight races down her reddened cheeks and she chuckles, "I don't think you've ever been this talkative before."

I try and wrap my mind around that, realizing that she's right. Somehow, she gets me talking. Lydia is one of the few people who makes me want to be an open book, or at least cracked open a smidge. "I kind of lose my filter around you." I reluctantly disclose, watching the looks I get from the others surrounding us with shocked expressions.

Lydia fixes me with a heavy look and a small smile before she folds into me like origami, her whole body molding into mine like I'm wearing a second skin. I nervously wrap the blanket around her shoulders and she sighs in relief from the biting chill that erupts across her bare stomach and gashed knees.

Everyone one watches on in disbelief, probably from the way she makes me so soft unintentionally. At their looks my eyes go cold and hard as the sapphire studs that decorate my ears. I can't show this to them. My cool gaze doesn't deter until the others look away from our private moment and my eyes drop to the girl in my arms. And beyond that, when I look at her sometimes, I see myself staring back in those near-translucent, opalescent eyes, just a murmur of a girl who can't seem to let anyone in. But with her, I almost believe that I can. I know we've only come so far and I'm still unsure about everything, but I want to see where things can go with her. But she doesn't need a girl friend right now, she needs a friend. And I'm okay with that for now.

"We can convene back at my apartment. Everyone hop in a car and follow me."

MY MALIA POV:

When the other Stiles and Allison return, we all filter out of the three cars we squeezed into and I rub the kink out of my neck. Pretty sure I had hunter-Stiles foot in my back, Ally's elbow in my side, and Scott's head between my legs from sitting on the floor, (because of course he would position himself there, not that I'm complaining). But still, I need to get a grip and reevaluate a few things.

The more that I think about it, the more I realize that Kira's right. That I let Scott off too easy. We're not together, but there's a certain ounce of respect that I thought we had for one another. An understanding.

We all circle around her kitchen table and except for their Liam who plops his ass on one of the nearby couches.

"You got any food up in here? Space travel really does leave a guy with an empty stomach."

Our Kira rolls her eyes, "There's some stuff in the cabinet, just be gentle with it. A girl's gotta eat and I'm running low on funds."

Him and Hunter-Stiles make a beeline for the cabinet and their Allison rolls her eyes at their antics.

My Scott assumes the leadership role and gets everyone's attention, "I think we need to establish some ties and see what's similar and different between our two worlds. I think it would also be a good idea if we lay down some code names to distinguish ourselves from each other."

Seeing the way Scott takes charge makes my chest swell with pride.

And my pussy tingle.

"Our Liam chuckles, "Afraid this new Scott is going to make off with Malia or something when your back is turned?" Theo tries to hide his laugh from beside him and gives him a subtle fist bump. Both Kira's chuckle along with them. Even Hunter-Stiles fights a grin.

I roll my eyes and thump Liam upside the head.

He grouches about it and rubs the sore spot on his head, "Kill joy."

Scott sends me an appreciative look.

I knew he was good at this, Allison had said so herself. But it's different seeing him in his element, seeing it all in action. I catch other Scott watches us, or more like watching me. I side-eye him and he just smirks kindly, averting his gaze to something else. I know he wasn't intentionally checking me out. I know that it's just had for him, I look just like her. His her. It actually leaves me reeling how much I can feel his love for her, as if it's seeping into my bones as well. I wonder if Scott and I will ever get to that sort of place. A smile tugs at my lips. He notices and smiles back across the table, a genuine, full on smile and I return it. He may be a carbon copy of the man before me, but he's not him. He's not my Scott. And I'm not his Malia.

My eyes land on my Scott. He may be a lot of things: A friend, an ally, someone I've come to admire… in more ways than one. Seeing the way this other-wordly Scott looks at me sends shivers down my spine; chillingly and sexually, but more the former than anything. Even if it's only him being in awe of me, he still shares Scott's face. I'm getting wet just thinking about it. Can you imagine two Scott's existing in one place for an extended amount of time? I don't think my ovaries could handle it.

Scott throws out a suggestion. "How about we differentiate between Earths." He motions to the others, "We can call them Earth 1. We'll be Earth 2."

Liam throws in, "Earth 1, the superior universe. I can dig it." He snarks and E-1 Stiles raises an eyebrow at him.

E-2 Liam manifests some sticker tags from his backpack he'd brought in the car, "I picked these up from the student union the other day for Noora. She was running behind and didn't have time to get name tags for the LGBT club, but I guess I can get her some new ones later." He says, handing out the stickers and multiple sharpies.

E-1 Kira smirks, "That's not twinky at all. Guess it's a running theme in both worlds."

E-1 Liam gives her the finger.

She zaps him with a bolt of electricity.

"Ouch." He complains.

She shrugs, "Don't be a whiny little bitch."

My Scott decides this is a good time to interrupt, "Does anyone know how any of this this is even possible? I'm sure none of us ever thought this could be real but here we are with limited information and a whole lot of questions. Any ideas?"

E1-Scott intercepts, "The Malia back in our world and I have been having flashes of each other from the moment we met. We think their memories, they feel too real not to be." He says, getting lost in thought. A ghost of a smile slants across his face and he continues, "We were in another world. Things were different. Our relationships were different." He peers over at E1-Allison, "Some of us didn't make it out alive."

E-2 Allison looks on in curiosity. Isaac pulls her further into his side with an apprehensive look on his face.

E-1 Scott looks him over, "You're one of the bad guys where we're from." He continues to analyze him, "And you tried to get with Allison, not that it worked considering she's with Stiles… I think." He says, looking over at the bashful two. Continuing his train of thought he finishes, "I'm not sure where you are now in our world."

Isaac's eyes bulge out of his head at the comment and holds his hands up in defense, "I'm just a boy who loves scarves, that's not a crime."

E-2 Stiles jumps at the chance to taunt him, "Yeah I meant to ask you about that. What the hell is up with that scarf, it's 75 degrees outside." He snarks, his plaid flannel flying around him.

E-1 Stiles looks at him in amusement, "Am I always like this?"

E-2 Stiles looks at him strangely, "I take offense to that."

The other smirks back, "You should, Cora was right about you being kind of a spastic. You should try some meditation, dude, it might mellow you out a bit."

Our Stiles bites back, "I think the Nogitsune that possessed me was enough of a 'mellowing out' phase for me but thanks for the suggestion. I'll store it away later for further consideration." He says in a clipped tone.

That shuts him up.

I've kept quiet for a while, the seams of my lips finally bursting open. "I have a confession to make."

I peer into the eyes of my own Scott, his earthy brown orbs feel like technicolor compared to everything else. His worried gaze sears my flesh, the good kind that makes the air leave my body. My bottom lip trembles, I don't know what he'll think of the secret I've been keeping from him or what he really thinks of any of this. I bask in the way both his hands now cup my face, his thumbs rubbing small circles on my cheeks. I touch the back of his hand searchingly and open my mouth to speak, "This isn't the first time I've encountered another version of myself." I start slowly gauging his reaction. He seems mildly surprised but remains silent to let me speak, "When I was in a coma, I saw something. Well more like someone. Me, actually. But not me at the same time." My breath quickens, "She told me that she had met others."

He digests the information I fed him and stares back, "Why didn't you ever say anything?"

I shrug, "I didn't think you'd believe me."

He pulls me closer, tucking me into his chest with his chin on my head as my arms wrap around him, "I'll always believe you. Don't you know that by now? I'll always be on your side, Lia."

My next words falter at that, "I know that." I acknowledge, seeping further into his warmth, "I think I also didn't tell you because we were in a weird place then. We still kind of are now." I murmur, trying to reign in my hurt and disappointment. "I was going to tell you eventually."

He runs his fingers through my hair, "I deserved that."

A somber laugh leaves my lips, "No shit, Sherlock."

His dimples peek out at that when he graces me with a crooked smile.

I peer at him earnestly, "This doesn't mean that I'm okay with what happened. I'm not going to make excuses for you or try to justify it in my head. But I also know that you don't really owe me anything." I say, turning to move away from him.

He latches gently onto my wrist and spins me back around, back into his orbit. "I owe you more than I can ever show you. And then some."

Other-Kira wipes a fake tear from her cheek, "You two are so fucking cute. It's honestly kind of nauseating, we get enough of that from our own version of you guys. Are you guys together?"

My face flushes and Scott saves me from answering, kissing the crown of my head before responding, "We're operating under 'it's complicated' for now." He chuckles awkwardly, pulling me back against his chest.

"Pity…" She drawls, "I was hoping at least one couple has their shit together. Lord knows these two don't." She spouts out, pointing at other Liam and Theo that stand there with comical wide eyes are they blatantly stare at their counter parts across the group.

The Liam across from us glares at her, "We're not a couple!" He yells exasperated, running his hand over his outgrown hair and directs the question at our Liam letting out a sigh, "So what's up with the two of you in this world? Are you guys butt buddies or have you not gotten that far?" He says with bluntness that rivals my own. I have to chuckle at that, who knew Liam could be a comedian. I could totally get used to this.

The Liam next to me blushes hot pink that crawls down his neck and tinges his ears, "We're just friends." He starts shyly.

Other Theo bellows with laughter while throwing a glance at our Theo, "I guess we're destined to be stuck in the friend-zone, ay?" He mutters loosely, but there's a bit of irritation that seeps through. He looks over at his Liam but the other boy ignores it.

Other Theo keeps talking, "But you never did answer the question…" He reaches, waiting for one of our boys to spill the beans. "Oh come on, you can tell me. It's just like talking to yourself, except I'm not in your head." He drawls persuasively.

"You're not even remotely funny." Other Kira murmurs with her arms crossed. She seems to be a little protective of Liam, almost like a big sister protecting a little brother. Our Kira looks on in interest.

Our Theo shrugs, "We fuck."

From next to me, Liam punches his arm and Theo chuckles, "I'm kidding. He's just a pup but we dabble in a thing or two every once in a while. Lets just say, Liam isn't exactly the poster boy for gay pride." He explain with a hint of sadness lacing his tone before he perks up and it's gone just as fast as it came, "He's one of my French Girls. And yes, it's just as erotic as it sounds."

Liam chuckles goodnaturedly and reaches to punch him again but Theo catches his fist in his large hand, both of them trapped in a heated look. Theo licks his lips and Liam gulps audibly, "There's a special place in hell for people like you." He jokes and wrestles his hand away.

Theo laughs at that and pinches his butt, "As long as I can look back at that sweet ass of yours from there than I can make it work." He says in a sing-song voice, averting his attention to other Liam not even trying to hide the way he was checking him out, "I guess tight asses are a Liam Dunbar trademark."

Other Kira butts in, "Anyways" She says with a fake gag, "Back to the real issue at hand, you don't want to come out of the closet just yet? Well why the hell not? So you like dick, who cares? I'm sure it has it's pleasures and benefits besides getting unwilling girls pregnant." She rambles on until other Scott silences her with a steely glare. Lydia and Cora flinch at her brusqueness and her Lydia gives her the look to shut the hell up.

She stutters, "…Sorry, I tend to go off on tangents every once in a while. We have a similar situation back at home." She explains looking over at Lydia and Cora, "But I can see that it's too soon to be making light of a really serious and sad situation." She reluctantly apologizes, backing up into her spot in case she offends anybody else in the nearest vicinity.

I step forward when I realize someone is missing, "Where's your Malia?"

E-1 Scott meets me halfway, "She's being detained by Deucalion. You guys know who that is, according to Lydia. We got the girls back home and we want to help you guys out. I'm hoping you will return the favor when the time comes to get my Malia back.

I bite my lip, "Your Malia… so you guys are-"

He gives me a small smile and nods, "We're not technically together right now but I know we're suppose to be."

"Do you love her?"

He moves from foot to foot, "In love with her?"

I nod in clarification.

"Yeah, I am." He says, looking happy and even a little sad.

The air rushes out of me, giving me pause. I think I heard my Scott's breath hitch as well. I peer at him over my shoulder and our eyes meet in a heavy look with a weight behind it that automatically brings a smile to my face. I turn back to this Scott and reach out my hand for him to take, which he does.

"We'll help you get her back. It's the least we can do considering you guys helped Lydia and Cora find their way back here." I look behind me at my cousin and the girl who's become a good friend of mine before turning back to look at him again, "I can't imagine what you're going through."

He squeezes my hand and leans to whisper in my ear so quiet that only I can hear, "You will one day." He says, his nose grazing my ear as he makes eye contact with Scott behind me.

I squeeze his hand back and let go, the feeling of an electrical current sending tingles up my arm. I think how it must be so lonely losing your other half, how hard it must be to hold yourself together.

Out of nowhere, all the cellphones of the main group ding and light up, alerting them of a chain message.

I look up at Scott in bewilderment, "Emery's body has been stolen from the morgue." The phones ding again and I cover my mouth in horror at the picture message that infiltrates my screen, "And another girl has been found dead."

Both Lydia's look eerily similar, a shadow falling across their faces, heavy with premonition and lips parted with understanding.

Our Lydia reels back as though she's been pushed before catching her footing and looking back up at us, "Something is coming for us. All of us."

MY SCOTT POV:

"I think we all need to take a beat and find our bearings."

There's been another death and I don't know if Malia can handle it. I know she's capable of plenty, but Emery's had hit her harder than I had anticipated.

I take a break and step outside to the awning on the back side of Kira's apartment. A small fold out chair sits near the steps and I take a seat. Running my hands over my eyes, I let out a sigh. This is just so much so fast. I have no idea what's happening.

I hear the squeak of the screen door sliding open and the heavy weight of someone sitting down beside me on the steps. E-1 Scott stares back at me before looking out into the starry night.

We sit in silence for a while until he breaks it.

"You know, one time Malia and I were at the grocery store and this racist imbecile came over spewing hateful things at me and saying how I needed to go back to my own country. Malia almost bit his head off. She attacked him, actually. I had to wrestle her off of him but I almost just let her do it. I think that's the moment I realized that I loved her."

My mouth softens in a meek smile, "Malia and I had a similar experience, but it happened at school on the lacrosse field. One of my teammates was a closeted racist and finally just got tired of hiding it one day. He called me a wet back and Malia charged him up and came running over from the adjacent track, punched the dick in my honor." I smile fondly, remembering how I'd never been more proud. That had been recently, not even a few days ago. She had looked beautiful in her anger.

"How long have you and your Malia known each other?" I inquire. He seems head over heels, not that I blame him. If his Malia is anything like mine, it's only a given that he loves her.

He chuckles, "A few months. But it feels like it's been longer, you know?"

I lean my chin on my hand, "Yeah, I know what you mean. School only just started a few weeks ago. Malia and I are in the developmental stage."

A smile tugs at his lips, "I remember what that's like. Malia and I hated each other at first if you can believe that. Well, it was more like love-hate. She was trying to get into my pants." He chuckles endearingly, "And being a gentleman, I held out for a little bit. We clashed at first, butted heads. She's stubborn and I'm a hot-head. And it didn't help when I found out that Peter is her father."

I let out a breath, "Yeah that was news to me as well. I just don't understand how someone like her can come from someone like him."

E-1 Scott shakes his head, "Ditto."

I scratch at my stubble, "How did you know that she was the one?"

He analyzes me, the same shade of dark brown eyes staring back into mine, "Seems like your asking more for yourself than me. It's not my place to tell you that she's the one or to tell you how you should feel, but I don't have to because I can already tell that know, you're just scared."

I tug at my curls realizing how surreal this is. I'm talking to myself. And I'm getting advice from myself on a girl whom we both care for. Different girls, different pasts, same heart, same face.

"I don't want to lose her. I'd rather have her in some capacity than none at all. I'm afraid one day she'll wake up and think differently about me. Maybe she'll think this was all a mistake."

He leans into me, "No matter what world, Malia is the kind of girl that falls into your lap early in life that so that if you lose her, you'll feel that loss for the rest of your life." He gives me a serious look, "The good news is this, you'll never lose her, not really. Not in the way you think." He pauses to think about what he wants to say next, "You can't shake her, she won't let you. But she can disappear on you, maybe unintentionally when certain circumstances arise." He explains, removing eye contact and staring at his hands. "You only miss out on the chances you don't take. Don't let her be your one biggest regret. Not when she can make you as happy as my Malia has made me."

Contemplation thrums in my mind, the weight of his words sinking in slowly, then all at once.

OTHER-THEO POV:

Everyone went on their separate ways. Some mingled on the couches, some took the moment to themselves to process everything that's happened, and others raided Kira's fridge. And by others I mean the mini apocalypse of Stiles and Liam 2.0 who sit around the tv watching reruns of The Office and crunching loudly on some potato chips. Feeling a bit antsy, I check my phone for what feels like the hundredth time even though I know it won't ring. AT&T may be the shit, but I don't think the cellphone service is good enough to pass through a universal portal.

My shadow self sits in the far corner of the room lighting a cigarette.

E-2 Kira jumps on his ass, "Nah, I don't play those games, Theo. You know the rules. I only tolerate your nasty habits when they're not in my apartment." She scolds lightly pointing to the door, "You can go catch cancer outside." She reiterates when her wintry gaze.

He rolls his eyes but obeys, strutting out the door with his heavy combat boots hitting the floor extra hard when he leaves. I decide to follow him.

He slinks against the red-brick building, puffs of opaque smoke clouds perforating the area around him. And damn, he looked good doing it. Wait. Is that conceited of me to be noticing how attractive another version of me is smoking a cigarette? Fuck, who cares. I'm a self-proclaimed narcissist, anyways.

Sensing my arrival, identical grey eyes cut over to me lazily before focusing back on the black sky painted in stars. He takes another drag from the fig and shoves his other hand in the pocket of his leather jacket.

"Do you need an invitation or are you just going to stand there watching me? As if this isn't creepy enough." He says lightly, pushing himself off the wall and turning to face me. "I can tell you want to ask me something, so go ahead."

I shrug, "I can't imagine what it's like having a thing for Liam when he's ashamed of who he is. How does that feel?" I ask curiously. I honestly can't wrap my head around wanting to continue living a half-life, one full of walking on egg shells. Must be hard.

He rubs his chin to think on it. His silence stretches on for a while, so long that I think he's not going to answer at all until he clears his throat,.

Taking another pull from the cigarette and frowns, "It's lonely."

I let that sink in.

He reaches out in conversation, "So what's it like being the bad guy?"

The hairs on the back of my neck stand at attention. My brows scrunch together in caution, "I don't know what you're talking about."

He chuckles, "I think you forget that I'm you. You may have the rest of those guys fooled, but not me. You can't hide from me. Every dark thought that's passed through your head has most likely come up in mine before as well." He fixes me with a serious look, "So what is it? And don't say nothing. I like to believe I'm a pretty perceptive guy, Theodore. You mind if I call you Theodore? I figure that's your full name considering it's mine." He remarks sardonically, "Anyways, I can tell you're jittery. One moment you're making sex eyes at Liam and the next your fidgety and looking down at your phone like you're waiting for something to happen."

I guess I underestimated myself. Am I that transparent?

"Lets go for a walk." I propose, bypassing his accurate observation while also not giving him a chance to answer before I take off down the street. He follows a few paces behind me.

We arrive at an abandoned park not too far from the apartments. We each take a seat on the wobbly swing sets and look up at the sky. After a while I can feel his relentless eyes on me. Sighing, I let out a shaky breath and decide to open up a bit. I mean, who better to fess up to than myself? They do say the only person you can really trust is yourself.

The deadened air feels sticky against my skin. The back of my hands clam up uneasily and I scratch at the hair on the back of my neck. "I know where Malia is."

He looks at me strangely, "Yeah dude, she's back at the house. Didn't know that was a secret."

I roll my eyes at his naivety. "I'm talking about our Malia." I drawl out slowly so he'll understand the gravity of what I'm saying. His eyes bug out a bit and I nod along with him, "Liam knows that I know. He's keeping my secret, for now at least. I'm kind of working for Deucalion."

He seems shocked for a moment until his face relaxes into a neutral expression, "Scott's going to kill you when he finds out, you know that right? I don't even know him like that but he seems temperamental." He comments with a raise of his dark brow, "Why are you doing this? Don't you care about Liam and the others?"

Now it's my turn to get quiet.

I wring my hands in my lap, "I care about Liam a lot." I begin, "And the others. But I have to do this to get my dad back. It's the most important thing to me. He's the only parent I've got, the only one who's ever cared. He died, but Deucalion can bring him back. I've seen him do it before with numerous people, including Malia's sister. If I have to give up Liam for him than that's what I'm going to do." I surmise with a heavy look, "But if I can keep him out of the crossfire with minimal damage than I'm going to take every precaution to do that." I look back at the sky, almost too ashamed to look at myself in the eyes. "I'm not good enough for him. I wish I was, but I know I'm not. If only things could be simpler."

"Weird as it may seem to you, Malia is my best friend. Kira, too. But Malia and I have always had a different kind of friendship. We're a lot alike."

I nod, "She's a cool girl. I could see us being friends. You know, if I didn't have a hand in her kidnapping." I mumble guiltily, "I'm deceiving all of them and it's tearing me apart. They don't deserve this. Their good people and for some reason they've come to trust me. I've finally started to feel like I fit in, like I belong somewhere. And I'm just going to throw it back in their face."

Theo looks at me like I'm a puzzle he can't quite figure out, "If you're going to be bad, be bad with a purpose." He advises, "Or you're going to lose Liam and the others. But I can tell Liam is the one you care about the most." He takes a breath, "You may not see it now but you're not going to find anyone else like him. Trust me, I know."

"What should I do?"

He gives me a grim smile, "Decide what's worse, missing out on the life you could have with Liam or living the rest of your life without a father who's already dead." He gets up from his seat, "I know who I'd choose. I think you do, too."

With those parting words, he gets up and leaves me on the playground.

OTHER-ALLISON POV:

I manage to pull Allison away from Isaac long enough to get her alone in one of the empty rooms at the far end of the apartment.

Long dark lashes fan her coffee brown eyes in the same manner as my own. I stare back in awe.

"I always wondered what it would be like to have a twin sister. As you probably already know, I'm an only child." She says lightly, taking a seat on the empty bed and patting the seat next to her. "You seem worried, what's wrong?"

I shift uncomfortably on the mattress, "I needed to warn you."

"What is it?"

I take in a shallow breath, "I think I'm going to die."

MY SCOTT POV:

Malia sits deflated on the island chair in the kitchen. With all the noise surrounding the room, she still manages to force it all out. Her skin glows underneath the tempered orange lights that hang from the ceiling. Her lips are pulled down in a grimace and her eyes are glassy. I can tell she's been crying. Somehow in her brokenness, she's still the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.

I move over to her slowly in an effort to not startle her. Her eyes raise to meet me and like quicksilver, she's in my embrace, melting in my arms. Her sniffles seep through my shirt, her soft cries making my heart clench with her. She's in Hell, which means I'm in Hell.

I take both of her hands and kiss them, brushing the hair out of her eyes and the bits that stick to her wet cheeks. "Lets get out of here."

She watches me with a look I can't place but relents, "Okay."

We sneak out of the house unnoticed.

"Where are we going?" She asks impatiently.

"I don't want to ruin the surprise."

She bites her lip, "I think I've had enough surprises for one day." She sighs and loops are arm around mine, "Why can't anything ever be easy?"

I look at her long and hard counting the freckles on her nose and her impossible number of eyelashes, "If everything were easy nothing would have meaning."

Taking a moment to digest that she gives me the best smile she can. "I guess I can agree with that."

I grab her hand and pull her along the street. We walk a mile or so until we come to an area with a small pond and leafy green trees that provide a reprieve from the heat during the day. Fireflies dance around us, the masses resembling strings of lights that hang around the outskirts of the water. Weird, I didn't know it was firefly season just yet.

I fumble around a bit until I find what I'm looking for. Underneath a small patch of grass I'd stashed a notepad, paints, and brushes.

Malia's eyes light up when she sees them, "Geez Picasso, could of warned a girl that you were going to pull out all the stops. I knew you could draw but I didn't know you paint, too. What can't you do?"

My dimples peek out in embarrassment at her praise, "I like to dabble in painting every once in a while. It's not my passion, but it's fun and a good outlet when I'm lacking some inspiration."

I motion for her to sit down in front of me with her back facing me. I grapple at the hem of her shirt and awkwardly cough, "May I?"

She nods timidly and I lift up her shirt a bit until her scar is in plain view. The cool air hits it and Malia shivers, her body reacting to the change in temperature and having the automatic desire to cover herself.

"What are you doing, Scott?"

I run my index finger gently over the pale scar that shines a silvery color in the moon light. She trembles at first but then begins to relax a bit. Her voice shakes, "I forgot I showed you this."

I kiss her shoulder lightly, intimately, and lean into her ear, "I was wondering if you'd let me paint your body." I immediately backtrack when I realize how sexual that sounds, "I meant your back. It's smooth and elegant, a perfect canvas. Who knew even your back is good-looking." I compliment her with a rush of confidence.

I can hear her heavy breathing and see it in the air, the white puffs leaving her parted lips in spades. She leans forward to give me more access, "I trust you." She says reluctantly, "But no penises, McCall, or I'll skin you alive." She threatens in a casual manner.

I chuckle under my breath, "I could eat you."

She gazes back at me with lustful eyes, "I'd let you."

I'm suddenly nervous under her appraisal. I've never really showed her any of my art work and now I'm taking this huge leap of faith and showing myself to her. And in return, she's showing herself to me. My baby lives in shades of blue and I'm trying to keep up, tripping over my feet leaving trails of red behind me. Maybe when we're done here, we can coexist in perpetual purples.

I take my time choosing my colors. I have an idea of what I want to do, I want it to be personal. I want her to love it. I want her to love herself, every piece. Even the ones that don't seem capable of loving.

I make lazy strokes on her back with the dampened brush. Colors glide across her back, everything blending together exactly how I imagined it would.

She's uncharacteristically quiet tonight. I guess she's got a lot on her mind, but I don't take it to heart. I've got a lot on my mind, too. A lot of it being her. Some of it consumed with our current problems that keep seeming to stack up on top of each other.

"When I was with Fiona, I wanted it to be you." I start off shakily, "Behind my eyes, it was you. I thought maybe if I wanted it bad enough her red hair would become your brown. Her blue eyes would darken to the burnt sienna you keep drowning me in, unsuspectingly." I vent with a long sigh, "I know I hurt you and I left you hanging. I have nothing to say for myself because there's nothing to say that will undo it. I know I'm not suppose to feel these things for you but I can't make it stop. I don't want to."

Her breath hitches but she doesn't turn around, "Do you think that could be us one day? You know, like the other earth's Scott and Malia?"

I fumble around with the paint brush, "No."

She lets out the breath she's been holding. I can tell that's not the answer she was expecting.

I'm quick to explain myself, "We can never be them. We can only be us. Their story is unique to them. And I may be biased, but I think ours will be better."

She chuckles lowly and it's like music to my ears against the empty, quiet clearing. The only sounds heard are the rippling of the water moving across the pond.

"I'm all done." I say with a little bit of fear. She's going to see what I've been envisioning for her since the moment she shared her scar with me.

I snap a picture of her back on my iPhone and hand it over for her to see. My hands clench into fists at my side, my claws digging into the ground. I'm so nervous, what if she hates it?

"Scott…" She murmurs quietly turning around to face me. Tears tangle in her lashes and her bottom lips quivers. She leaps into my arms and presses her forehead against mine, "You turned my scarred back into a coyote."

I can taste her salty tears on the tip of my tongue. I cup her face with both hands and stare deeply into her eyes. Those eyes that have held me hostage from the moment I saw them.

She leans in a fraction of an inch and I follow. Her head tilts up and mine moves in sync with her until her pink lips brush mine, testing the waters. My nose grazes hers in a shy hello and I can still taste the salty sweetness of her tears on her lips. She grabs at the back of my neck desperately and I squeeze her cheeks between my hands, pulling her closer. Her lips are like a liquid sunset, euphoric and leaking sun-drenched lava as her lips part and move over mine in urgency. I kiss her like I'm homesick for the taste of her mouth. And I am. I have been. It feels like coming home.

MY STILES POV:

The gang decided to split up and section off at a few of our dorms and Kira's apartment. I invited Cora to stay with me. I know Malia would of offered but with her and Scott having their usual stuff going on and limited space, I figured why not. We're long overdue for some catching up. My roommate is gone, anyways.

I pull out some spare blankets from the closet and my favorite pillow wrapped in a dark green casing. Dad made sure I grabbed it when I left for college, he's the only one besides Scott who knows how I can't sleep without it. Cora lingers in the corner of the room.

She's dark and heavy-browed with a mouth as sharp as it is soft. Her eyes are a constant presence as I move around the room. Her looming aura doesn't lessen when I turn my back. I adjust the thermostat until a slight chill cools the room and I turn back to face her, "You can sleep in my bed, I'll take the couch."

Her eyes narrow a fraction and her plump pink lip hides behind her teeth, "I'm not hijacking your bed, Stilinski. We can share it. I really don't mind." She smirks a bit at my sheepish expression, "Unless you're nervous. I promise I don't bite." She pauses and full out grins, exposing the sharp incisors, "Much."

I chuckle nervously and scratch at the back of my neck, "I don't want you to think I'm trying to take advantage of you or something."

She cocks her head to the side, "I was raped, I know this. But I won't let myself become a victim. Circumstances that were out of my control don't get to scare me, not anymore." She asserts with a fire that I can feel in the pit of my stomach. Her stance is proud and her chin juts out defiantly.

So much like Malia. They're definitely cousins.

Silky, auburn eye glare back at me, but with no trace of malice. She bows her head shyly with a low cough, "Besides, I know you wouldn't hurt me."

I small smile forms on my lips.

She takes the right side of the bed near the window and crawls underneath the covers.

"Hey, that's my side." I grumble, standing their awkwardly as I shift back and forth on my heels. I shake my head and internally reprimand myself and remember my manners, "Fine you sleep there. I'll just make myself at home over here." I say, pointing at the empty space across from her.

Way across from her. I make sure there's at least a foot of space in between us.

Cora relaxes into the human-shaped dent on the right side where I usually am. Moving underneath the covers, I try to hide my pout.

Her muffled giggles rouse me.

"What's so funny, Hale?" I grin with my back facing her.

She continues to laugh a bit, "You're exactly as I remember." She lets out with a tired sigh, "Your heart's beating really fast, are you anxious?"

I chuckle low underneath my breath, "You mean more than the usual amount?" I attempt to joke, "Nah, I'm just not used to having a girl in my bed." I mutter lamely and turn back to face her only to see her staring at the ceiling and clutching the bed spread tightly.

"So you and Lydia never-"

I shake my head lousily, "Nope, we never got that far. She's always been in love with someone else."

Her wispy brown hair flies around the pillows when she turns her head towards me, "Maybe she'll give you the old college try one of these days." She says playfully, probably trying to cheer me up until the air shifts and the mood becomes more serious. Her lips part lazily, "Just give Lydia some time, she'll come around. It's not you. It's what happened to her."

"How can you be so sure?"

Her eyes find me in the dark, "Because you're good. And kind. Beautifully human. That's a rare thing to find."

I hope she can't see me blushing in the dark but I'm sure with her supernatural senses, she can.

My eyes find her again before looking down at my hands, "Do you think I could ever be like the other me? Like some cool, bad ass hunter who can wield daggers and get the girl at the same time. It just seems so easy for him. He's cool, calm, and collected. And I'm just… me. Maybe Lydia would return my feelings if I was more like him."

She punches me in the shoulder.

"Ouch!" I yelp, my eyes widening comically at her arched brow and the unimpressed look on her face.

She apologizes and leans in further like she has a secret to share, "You are like him, just in your own way. You're the one who always figures everything out. Always the one with the plan. And a back up plan. Your wit is your friend and your brain is your weapon. I think that's something Derek admired about you, even if he'd never admit it."

I can't help but smile at the memory of the name I haven't heard in a long time.

"Most people say I'm no fun to watch scary movies with. I always know who the killer is within the first twenty minutes." I mutter under my breath with a quirk of my lip, "Being the brains of the operation is fun most of the time but I guess I just want to be more than the sidekick sometimes."

Her voice penetrates the room, the sound coming out unsure and skittish like unswept glass, "You saved me once. If it's worth anything, you were my hero that day."

The moment after is quiet. It gives me a chance to think. Glowing stars stick to the ceiling, casting the room in an other-worldly aesthetic. Star Wars had been the inspiration behind the room decor. I guess I'll always be a bit nerdy at heart.

I turn to thank her for listening and maybe just to get one more peek of her before I drown out the lights and succumb to sleep but she already beat me to it, her soft snores filling the room. Her chest rises and falls in equal measure like she's actually getting the rest she deserves and I'm happy if I was able to have any part in that. If there's one thing Cora needs right now, it's to feel safe.

I look her over and fail to suppress my tiny grin. It's nice to see her again.

OTHER-ISAAC POV:

Bloody face gave me strict orders. He gave me a map, an address, and a message to pass along. I walk up the steps of the apartment complex and knock on the door. A cluster of familiar faces greet me.

"Isaac?" Allison gasps, surprised.

Stiles manifests behind her and the last thing I see is his fist flying at my face.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AUTHOR'S NOTE: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE LEAVE SOME IN-DEPTH, SPECIFIC FEEDBACK IN THE REVIEWS. I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR WHAT YOU GUYS HAVE TO SAY ABOUT THIS CHAPTER. LOTS OF LOVE, ETHEREALMINDSS.


	12. Forget Me, Forgotten

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Song Inspiration: "Euphor" Novo Amor & Ed Tullett
> 
> "In Quiet Rooms" OMN
> 
> "Fall Away" Lund

STILES POV:

Red neon lights flare brightly in my dimly lit room from the Darth Vader antique lamp that sits on the bedside table. My dad had found it at a pawn shop when he was around my age. On my thirteenth birthday, he passed it down to me.

Cora sits off to the side in the ugly green chair that slants in the corner of the room, she'd fallen asleep a little while ago reading my criminal justice textbook and helping me study. Exhaustion has seeped into her skin the last few days, dark circles placed underneath like they have nowhere else to go. Her hair is moused and sticking up in odd directions, one piece stuck to her lip that rises and falls as she breaths. In the red neon light she looked like death. She also looked beautiful.

I check my phone and see I have a missed text from an unknown number.

"It's Stiles. Can we meet?"

My eyes bug out at that before I shakily begin typing away.

"Is it really you?"

My phone goes off instantly.

"Yeah it's me, don't cream your pants."

I roll my eyes at that. Someone's been watching way too much Stranger Things.

"How do I know this is really Stiles?"

Another ding goes off.

"Because I know you. You're helplessly clumsy. You probably sleep with a night light. You were possessed by the Nogitsune. And you're in love with Lydia. Basically all the opposites of me."

I can't help but scowl at the last sentence.

"Anyone could of guessed that."

Another ding.

"Then how about coming based on pure curiosity. The inner-cop in you is just itching to know what I want to talk about."

I weighed the pros and cons before responding.

"Yeah, you got me there. Meet me behind the old tennis courts in 5."

I don't wait for his reply before I shuffle around the room to get changed. Throwing on a blue and green cotton flannel and a pair of khaki pants, I attempt to tame my hair with my fingers but it refuses to relent. I write a quick note to Cora letting her know where I'm going just in case this does turn out to be a trap. With one last glance in her direction, I make a move to the door but my hurried steps alert her of my presence.

"Stiles, where are you going?" She asks, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand and reaching over to don a pair of reading glasses.

Her legs hang lazily off the chair as she thumbs through the criminal justice textbook that had been discarded when she passed out. Before had been different. I hadn't had any kind of platonic interaction with a girl just for the hell of it in a long time. Lydia used to come over sometimes but it always took a while for the snarkiness to subside and for her to finally allow herself to be comfortable with me. This was just different. Nice, but different.

Earlier, she'd catch me peek down at her every so often and she always wink at me or smirk that devilish Hale smile before I'd blush and turn away. I didn't mean to outright stare, I guess it's just still hitting me that she's here. In my room, in my head-space, partially in my thoughts. It's kind of cool not being left alone so often.

She picks her head up to look at me with a mouthful of gummy bears I'd bought her at the student union with a quirk of her brow and a small smirk on her lips, "You're staring again."

I sheepishly look away and scratch at the back of my neck self-consciously, "Sorry, I was just thinking how weird it is that you're here."

Her grip on the book falters and her eyes fall from mine.

I quickly backtrack, "I mean like here- alive and well, well not exactly well given the circumstances- not that anything is wrong with you. You're perfect and all-" I pause when I realize what I'd said. Blushing I avert my eyes from hers, "I just meant that I can't believe you're here in front of me, in the flesh, not in South America like we all thought. I didn't mean here in my room like I was wanting you to leave or something. I've actually liked having you here."

She tucks tendrils of her auburn-brown hair into the folds of the loose braid she'd slept in. Freckles splatter her nose in a pattern that resembles poppy seeds. I've never be one to notice things like this about girls who aren't Lydia, but Cora looks soft this morning, a quiet type of beautiful that doesn't make a big deal about itself but is obviously there.

"Well I like being here." She divulges, careful to avoid my eyes, "But that doesn't answer my question. Where were you running off to?"

"E1 Stiles wants to talk."

She nods her head, "You trust him?"

I chuckle, "About as far as I can throw him."

"So not at all." She smirks.

"Hey! I resent that."

She shakes her head and hides her laugh behind her hand but the teasing gleam sparkles in her eyes, "Don't let him intimidate you." She says as she becomes more serious, "There's only room for one Stilinski and my bet is on you."

The moment suddenly feels heavy and serious. She coughs to clear the tension but it seems like there's more she wants to say but she doesn't. Her deep honey eyes meet mine and a ghost of a smile curves on her lips.

My own smile manifests in the heat of the moment. "I'll fill you in later."

"You better."

LIAM POV:

"Liam, I'm so sorry."

Theo has been taking care of me since the news. E1 Kira even stuck around for a bit to keep me company. Hot tears threaten to spill over my eyes. I can feel the heat behind them, the simmering of a gilded storm raging there just waiting to rain terror down my cheeks like water hitting asphalt. Her hand instantly finds my shoulder with a comforting squeeze and her familiar black eyes fall over me. Even if the connection between us isn't of the same authenticity of E1 Liam, she cares and she's here. Any comfort is welcome at this point.

Theo currently dons a pair of oven mitts, a pink apron, and is holding a steaming hot bowl of chicken noodle soup. He approaches me cautiously like nearing a wounded animal, "I made it from scratch." He says proudly.

I laugh through my hiccups and stray tears, "I literally just watched you pour it from the can."

He chuckles, "Well I scratched the top of the can off with my claws, doesn't that count?"

I bite back a laugh, "Not really."

Theo gets snappy, "Well damn, I didn't know I was serving Gordon Ramsey." He sasses, all bark and no bite. The dimple of his right cheek gives him away.

Kira howls with laughter giving him a fist bump.

I crack a grin at his dramatics and Kira's teasing. Theo seems to soften up when he sees me smiling and Kira looks on using the universal choking sign to show her disgust. She's just jealous.

"You think we just love seeing you tongue Lydia?" I direct the question her way, slurping up the chicken noodle soup from the spoon. I moan at the taste and Theo follows the tip of my tongue with his eyes as I lick my lips clean of the hearty liquid.

Kira grins, "Wrong version, twinky, but if my Lydia wasn't like a sister to me I'd give her a lick." She continues cheekily, "If you really want to discuss Lydia and I, we can. But I'm about to lose all my home training." She says with a wag of her eyebrows. Her silliness helps a bit. All the joking takes my mind off the things I can't change, what I don't want to see or acknowledge. Unfortunately, Malia isn't one to make light of a situation as a coping mechanism.

She sits off to the side not saying anything. Her eyes drift aimlessly until they fall on the window, being physically here but her mind a million miles away. Maybe even a whole world away.

Her gaze falls to the ground and a muffled sigh leaves her lips as tears spring to her eyes. I haven't known her long but it's easy to see that she doesn't let things get to her easily. The fact that she's upset about Hayden says a lot. She didn't even know her and yet she's crying. Whether it's more for my first girlfriend or for me, I'm not sure. Maybe it has nothing to do with our current situation and more to do with Scott. Whichever one occupies her mind right now, however, is a coin toss.

My fists tighten around the quilt that lays across my lap, tears drying in patchy stains down my red cheeks.

Why her, why Hayden?

We hadn't been on the best of terms lately and I think that's what makes this all worse. There was still so much left unsaid between us, so much history and memories. She'd been accepting of me when she'd found out about me and the other guy from school. Hurt, but still accepting.

Through the mess of tears that seem like an endless pursuit down my cheeks, my focus zeros in on Theo and for some reason it's like it's my first time seeing him.

Mom once told me that I'd find my person. She said how it may be confusing at first, maybe even feel exhilarating like a rush of air through my lungs. But she said I'd know who they are because they'd stand out. Whether closed off and hung in black leather or a flash of devilish, gleaming white teeth, I'd know. Maybe it's not the sexuality he brings out in me or the adventure or wonder, but the calm after a storm that grounds me. Somewhere along the way, he figured me out. And now I think he may know me better than anyone else.

I think that's why I'm so afraid of giving into him, falling deep into my greatest fear. I think that loving Theo would be like going to war, I'd never come back the same and I'm afraid that maybe I wouldn't want to.

His eyes drift to mine as if the words caught in my throat were tattooed across my forehead. The stormy grey I find there lessens to a gentle whisper, the kind that reminds me of rain pelting my window. He is the smell before rain; petrichor.

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth despite the tears that leak freely down my face. The corner of his lips upturn a fraction before he turns back to what he's doing.

If this is all just a terrible nightmare, he's the euphoric relief after a terrible dream. I really want to close my eyes and sink down further.

My lip trembles and he motions for me with a flash of protectiveness, most likely witnessing raw devastation on my face. He meets me half way and I crumble into his arms, the wayward James Dean breaking down his walls for the fallen pup and letting me crumble around him like a fallen catacomb. He doesn't have to do this- doesn't have to be here for me but he is. He supports me and takes my feelings into account- even when I don't always do the same for him.

The warmth of Theo's chest bleeds through his sweater and comforts me with my hand pressed against him and my head in the crook of his neck as he holds me, all broad chest and burly arms encasing me with the sound of his voice soothing me. Everything is changing, someone is always dying. First Emery, than another girl I hadn't known and now Hayden.

Malia gives me a comforting squeeze and a lukewarm smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes, "We're going to find these guys, I promise."

My skin feels weak underneath her comfort. I have this need, this desire to shed my skin and ease the tension on my weary bones. I'd reach inside myself and try to find something, anything, any other feeling then the scraping of dull razor blades against my rib cage.

Another tear falls from my cheek and I wipe it with my sleeve, "You shouldn't make promises that you can't keep."

"Who says I can't keep them?" She inquires with an eyebrow raise.

"We can't do this, Malia. We're just a bunch of kids, we can't save anyone."

Her hard brown eyes lose a bit of their edge and she pulls me into a side hug, "But we have to keep trying anyways."

MALIA POV:

I'd just left Theo's place. I'm tired… I'm so tired.

The smell of Scott fills my nose and my eyes turn to the hallway near our room where he leans against the wall. "You're home," I say nervously, "I mean, you're here." I backtrack with a blush, biting my bottom lip in embarrassment at my slip up.

His warm eyes make me feel some type of way. With a confident quirk of his brow, he presses his back further into the wall, "We haven't really called this place home since that encounter with Greg on the lacrosse field." His smile widens, "I like it; playing house with you and being all domestic sounds kind of nice."

He pushes himself off the wall and his smell grows stronger as he invades my personal space, "You punched him if I remember correctly."

I bite my lip to hold in a chuckle, "I did, I punched him."

His dimples crease, "For me"

My hands come to rest on his chest, raising on my toes to give him a chaste kiss while my lips linger on the corner of his mouth, "For you."

He smiles and tries to deepen the kiss but I pull away before we can get carried away.

"I haven't stopped thinking about before- in the elevator." He reveals, his raspy voice and scent swimming around in my head. His heavy brown eyes wash over me and I feel my pussy clench on command. Now is definitely not the time but my wet thong says otherwise.

"We can't do this right now, not with everything going on." I say, reluctantly pulling away. I tap my fingers against my jean-short clad thighs trying to look anywhere but the man in front of me who looks like he'd love to have his face between my legs. And I'd love to let him.

The thought makes me clench harder.

"I know," He sighs, raking his hands through his tousled curls, "I just can't get you out of my head." He grabs my hand between his rough ones and lays it back on his chest, "I just feel you… buzzing around in my body… everywhere," He moves my hand over his heart and I can feel it bounding against my palm, "I feel you everywhere."

His fingers dance down my spine like the index of a book, filling in the gaps of who I am with what he doesn't already know. He reads me intently like his favorite book, taking his time to unravel me with each swipe of a page with caressing touches, reading through each one of my chapters and folding corners at the good and the bad.

I once heard that true love is like ghosts, which everybody talks about and few have seen. I wonder if this is what E1 Scott and Malia have experienced. From the sound of it, they have. And living in the ghost of their memories makes me a little envious, a little weirded out, but strangely hopeful. Scott and I may not be in love yet and maybe things won't work out and we never will be, but I'd like to entertain the idea that it could happen and what it would feel like to be loved by a man as warm and magnetic as him.

He runs his nose down the slope of my neck and he groans, "You smell like vanilla and cinnamon. You're trying to kill me, woman."

My lips find his shoulder and I can't help but grin against him, "It's these oils I got from a friend. Dad was in the army when I was little so we moved around a lot at first. I made a friend in Charolettesville. Deniqua and I still keep in touch through letters every once in a while." I share.

He smirks against my skin, "Remind me to send her a thank you card."

I side step his lips with a coy smile, "Remind me to never let my guard down around you." I chastise lightly, "That last thing I need to be doing is flirting with you when we should really be out there catching the killers. Liam's really hurting. Hayden meant a lot to him."

Scott scratches the back of his neck, "I know," He sighs, his deep brown eyes conflicted, "I just feel like I failed him. Like I'm failing everyone."

"Not everyone."

His heavy gaze holds me in place. Hooking his thumb under the crook of my jaw, he runs his fingers over my chin with a soft smile that makes me weak in the knees. He suddenly stops stroking my skin and the moment feels so much deeper. So much more.

Courage pulls me forward, "You could never let me down," I start off, realizing how intimate these kind of moments with him have become with his deplorably dark brown eyes boring into me. My eyes raise to meet his through my lashes, "You're Scott McCall. You care too much, except not enough about yourself. You're frustratingly selfless to a fault and sometimes it irritates me but it's also what I like about you." My thumb makes a lazy path over the small slit-shaped scar in his eyebrow. How had I never noticed that?

"You come running to pick up the pieces for everyone but you can't fix everything," Both my hands come to rest on his face, cupping his warm skin between them, "But that doesn't make you a failure. It makes you human."

I can feel the electric shift in the air at my words like their echoing in my ears, the catalyst of something beautiful that's been manifesting for a while now between Scott and I rumbling in the spaces between us. The buzzing beneath my clothes singes me with each lick of his fingers traveling down my arm like flames erupting from a match, testingly… slowly.

His eyes turn a misty brown, "For them, my pack- I'd be ready to give it all up- everything. Most of the time I'm half out of my mind worrying about them. I never think twice about what could happen to me. Some may call that selfless, but that's giving me too much credit. I'm guilty of being selfish in my own way, it's just not as black and white."

"Scott, no you're not-"

His heavy hand falls from my waist, "I love every single one of my pack, fiercely- maybe even a little irrationally. Mom always tells me I love too hard and fall too fast. I go hard for them because I'm half a man without them but I also do it because I fear who I would become if they were gone."

Silence falls at our feet.

This time his hand finds mine, interlocking our fingers as he gingerly rubs his thumb over the back of my hand.

It's this moment that makes me realize that I was doomed from the start. The instant Scott walked into my life, I was screwed. Mentally. Physically. Gravitationally. And weirdly enough, every thing feels like it's exactly the way it's suppose to be.

He runs his fingers through my hair while tucking a loose wave behind my ear, "Tell me what's going on in your head, I hate guessing."

The words get lost on my tongue. His touch left a warm feeling that I can't seem to shake. I'm starting to wonder if I'm about to start my period because there's no way I'm this damn emotional without some sort of biological explanation. Papa didn't raise no bitch.

I clear my throat through my nerves, "I was just thinking how losing you would be awful."

A small teasing smile slants across his lips, "How sad would you be, Lia?"

I place a dainty hand over my heart with a semi-straight face, "Devastated."

He chuckles at my attempt at seriousness, "I think I want a do-over on our first kiss."

My eyes widen in surprise, "You couldn't afford me, McCall." I joke but a bigger part of me wonders what brought this on.

"I could think of a couple different ways to repay you." He challenges in a husky voice dripping in sex while staring down at my mouth, "Dealer's choice."

I feel the familiar gush between my thighs. I lean up and my blunt teeth scrap his earlobe, "How generous of you." I whisper.

"I'd hardly call it generosity. I can solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He smirks against my neck.

I graze my fingers through his chocolate curls, "I'm kind of an adrenaline junkie. I think I can handle you."

His dimples disarm me with that stupid perfect smile and stupidly cute laugh, "Are you flirting with me, Lia?"

"Maybe"

He finally lets me breathe, taking a step back. "I wish you were."

There's that stupid crooked smile again.

The anxious feeling in my bones rattles me, the gentle hum of my body groaning for just a little more closure of the gap between us. Just a little but closer. Closer. Closer. I just want to be closer to him. I can only describe it as that influx of liquid sunset happiness you feel in the pit of your stomach when someone tells you that they miss you. Or that heart stopping feeling when you look up at someone's lips only for them to already be looking at you. Or that panic attack that mimics the feeling of your heart beating so fast you think it's going to shoot right through your chest.

Cut out my soul and give it to my lover

Those words use to ring through my ears as an angst-ridden adolescent. I have notebooks and diaries back home scribbled with my lazy scrawl, those exact words written over and over and over. I use to think I would be the next upcoming poet. Sometimes I would flip flop between that and embodying my inner-Stevie Nicks. I thought I'd start a girl-band and take the world by storm. Turns out the world got to me first.

Scott reaches for my waist. His hands feel so familiar as if I've known the shape of them for a long time. Like he's touched me a million different times. In this exact way. With his eyes on me like this.

I wanted to talk about it, damn it. I wanted to scream. To yell. To shout about it. I wanted to come undone at the seams and tell Scott about all the things I felt. How I felt so much. So deeply. So fast. I wanted him to know that even when he's gone I still feel him tugging at my chest like a tether forcing me to pay attention. It's crazy how he's already become a part of me. I wanted to say all these things in this moment but all I could whisper is-

"You're such a dork, Scott." I say with fondness creeping into my voice until it drifts off with a pause that doesn't quite feel like an ending.

His lips part as if he wants to say something but closes them, possibly thinking better of it. As if he knew what I really wanted to say. But he doesn't push me and I think I've never appreciated him more than I do in this moment. I'm not used to someone being so attentive to me until I met Scott. I'm not sure what to do with it most of the time.

He nudges me playfully, "Each time we don't say what we want to say we're dying. Make a list of how many time you died this week."

I chuckle, "Who are you, Yoko Ono?"

"Finally, someone with some culture. I'm glad you picked up on that."

I roll my eyes, subtly avoiding his statement. "We should probably go check on the others."

"Yeah," He sighs, grabbing his jean jacket off the futon, "I"m going to catch up with Allison for a bit. Call if you need anything, anything at all."

"You'll be the first." I murmur, giving him one last look before I walk out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's Note: ... I know, I'm the worst. My only real explanation is that school has been tough as hell this semester and I'm finally beginning to wind down. I also had a bad case of writer's block and I'm still not quite there yet but I wanted to give you guys something for sticking with me this long. I'll hopefully have a second part to add to this sometime soon. Love you guys so much.

**Author's Note:**

> Author's Note: So basically this is a story I started to try and get my muse back for my other Scolia story, If You Don't Want To Love Me. I'll be updating this when I can't find inspiration for my other story. Let me know if you like it and if you want me to continue. Reviews are valuable to me and let me know what you guys do and don't like so give me critiques and comments about the chapter! Thanks, love Etherealmindss.


End file.
